“I’ll give you the kiss, Master Hamilton, if you insist.  But it will be only a bribe to induce you to do what is for your own good, and if you take it, I shall never come back to your room again.”

“Ah, Ned, here’s another good girl!” exclaimed George, releasing Betty.  “There are two of them in the world!  Who would have suspected it?  Keep your kisses for your husband, Betty.”

“Yes, Master Hamilton,” she answered demurely, giving me a luminous glance, all unconscious of its meaning.  The glance was my first hint that perhaps Betty had at times been thinking of me.

“All right!  Here’s to bed, my girl,” said Hamilton.

She smoothed the bed covering and turning to leave the room, said, “I’ll come back when the physician arrives.”

I could easily see that Hamilton was going to have what the old women call a “bad night,” so I asked Betty to sit with him, and she consenting, I went by river to my lodging in Whitehall, where I collected a few necessary articles in a bag and returned quickly as possible to the Old Swan.  When I reached George’s room, I found Betty at her post.  The physician had given Hamilton a quieting potion, and he was resting, though at intervals he broke out, shouting his intention to kill the king.

During nearly two weeks Hamilton lay moaning and raving, sweet, dear Betty rarely leaving his side for more than a few minutes at a time.  I, too, clung to my post faithfully, but at least a part of my motive in doing so was selfish, being the joy I found in Betty’s company.  At the end of two weeks George began to recover rapidly, and I was dismissed along with the physician.

When I returned to Whitehall, I found that my Lord Sandwich, under whom I held my place as Second Gentleman of the Wardrobe, had been seeking me.  The king had gone to Sheerness on business of the navy two weeks before, and the Earl of Sandwich, being at that time Lord Admiral, was to go down the river on a summons from his Majesty.  Much against my will, I was compelled to go with him, and, by reason of this enforced absence, was away from London during the next month or two, when I very much wished to be there.

I saw Frances only twice during George’s illness, and as she made no inquiries about him, I concluded that sober thought had brought back her old aversion.  Therefore I did not mention his name nor try to correct her error, feeling that it was better for her to remain in her present state of mind.

I was convinced that Hamilton’s threats against the life of the king were but the ravings of a frenzied brain, and that he had no intention of killing Charles, but I also felt sure that trouble would come of it, since he had been overheard by several persons.  The treason was certain to reach the king’s ear, and if it did, Hamilton’s life would be in jeopardy.  But of that in its turn.

* * * * *

Immediately on my return to London I went down to the Old Swan to see George, of course having Betty in mind.  In truth, Betty had been in mind most of the time and much to my regret ever since the day I left her.