By which sentiment it may be gathered that a good deal of the Puritan sternness of character and distrust of royalty lingered in the mind of James Harmer, although in this case he was not destined to be a true prophet.

Half an hour may have passed, certainly not more, before a sound of approaching voices from the inner room, to which this one was but the antechamber, announced the approach of some persons.  The listeners within thought they distinguished the tones of Lord Desborough’s voice; nor were they mistaken, for next moment, when the doors were flung wide open, and the party instinctively rose to their feet, it was to see the young noble approaching in earnest talk with a very dark, sallow man in an immense black periwig, whom in a moment they knew to be the King himself.  He was followed by a still darker man, less richly dressed than himself, but still very fine and gay, who was so like the King as to be recognized instantly for the Duke of York.

The little group made deep obeisance as the royal party came forward, and received in return a carelessly gracious nod from the King, who flung himself into a seat, and looked at Lord Desborough.

“His Majesty would know from you, good Masters Harmer and Mason, what you have seen with your own eyes of this fire, and in particular how the flames were stayed upon the bridge by your efforts.  He has heard so many contradictory stories from those who are less well informed, that he will have the tale from first to last by worthy citizens who are to be trusted to speak truth.”

There was no mistaking the ring of truth in the narratives which were told by the Master Builder and his neighbour.

The King listened almost in silence, but when he did ask a question it was shrewd and pertinent in its import.  The dark face was lacking neither in force nor in power; and if the eyes of royalty did, from time to time, stray towards the fair face of Gertrude, who followed her father’s tale with breathless interest, his talk was all of the means which must forthwith be taken for the arrest of the fire, and from the sparkle in his eyes it was plain that he was aroused at last to some purpose.

“Good citizens,” he said at length, “since our worthy Mayor has proved himself a fool and a poltroon, I must needs use such tools as I have under my hand.

“Bring me pen and paper, knave!” he cried to a servant who was in attendance; and when the man returned, the King hastily scrawled a few lines upon the paper, and gave it into the hands of the citizens.

“My good fellows,” he said, in his easy and familiar way, “take there your authority under my hand, and go and save the Tower.  The Tower must not and shall not perish.  Pull down, blow up, sacrifice as you will, but save you the Tower.  As for me, I will forth instantly and see what may be done in this quarter.  The people shall not say that their King cared no whit whilst the whole city was burned to ashes.  Would I had known more before, but each messenger brought news that something was about to be done.