Though our young knight might well doubt Buckingham’s sincerity; he replied to all his courtly speeches in similar terms, and the greatest cordiality appeared to subsist between them.  Enchanted with this show of friendship, the King endeavoured to promote it by keeping them near him throughout the evening, leading them to converse together, and fawning upon them, as was his way with those he highly favoured.  All this could not fail to be satisfactory to Mounchensey; but he was far more pleased with the notice of Prince Charles, who treated him with marked consideration.

Next morning, in compliance with an invitation to that effect he had received at the revel, Sir Jocelyn repaired to Ely House, in Holborn, the residence of the Spanish Ambassador, and was at once admitted to his presence.

They were alone, and after a few preliminary observations upon the events of the previous day, De Gondomar remarked—­“I think I have already afforded you abundant proof of my friendly feeling towards you, Sir Jocelyn.  But I will not stop with what I have done.  My power of serving you is greater than you may imagine it to be.  I can lead you yet higher—­and put you in a firmer position.  In a word, I can place you on a level with Buckingham,—­perchance above him,—­if your ambition soars so high.”

Mounchensey endeavoured to express his deep sense of gratitude to the ambassador, and regretted his small means of requiting the numerous and important favours he had received from him.

“I will tell you what to do,” said De Gondomar.  “You can procure me certain information which I desire to obtain.  By my instrumentality you have, in some degree, already obtained the King’s confidence, and ere long are sure to become the depositary of many important state secrets.  These you shall communicate to me.  And you must also use your best endeavours to win Prince Charles over to the Church of Rome.”

“Is this proposal seriously made to me, Count?” demanded Mounchensey, looking at him with astonishment, mingled with displeasure.

“Unquestionably it is serious—­perfectly serious,” replied De Gondomar.  “I ask you only to serve me as a certain young nobleman of your acquaintance served me before he was compelled to fly from England to avoid the consequences of a quarrel with his wife’s family.  Your opportunities will be greater than his, and therefore your service will be more valuable.”

“I regret that such disloyalty should be laid to the charge of any English noble,” said Sir Jocelyn sternly.  “But think not, because Lord Roos played the spy and traitor, as your Excellency insinuates he did, that I will be guilty of like baseness.  Up to this moment I have felt nothing but gratitude to you for the favours you have heaped upon me; but the feeling is changed to resentment when I understand they are to be purchased at the price of my honour.  I cannot accede to your wishes, Count.  You must seek out some other tool.  I can be none in your hands.”