“There is a pack of them in there,” he said, “next to Her Majesty’s private closet.  They have been praying all day in the oratory.”

* * * * *

It was fallen dark by now; for it was long after five o’clock; and there were no candles lighted here.  We went up and down a good while longer, for the most part in silence, speaking of this and that; and I will not deny that we talked a little of French affairs, though God knows I was in no heart for that, and answered very indifferently.  It appeared to me extraordinary that a man could think of such little things as the affairs of kingdoms when an immortal soul was at stake.

A little before six o’clock, when at last the servants brought lights, the Ambassador left me again to go in to see the Queen, leaving me to watch for the Duke; and I had not very long to wait, for soon after I had heard a clock chime the hour, His Royal Highness came again, walking very quickly as before; and, when he saw me waiting there, beckoned me to follow him.  We went through two or three rooms, all lighted up and empty—­the Duke sending a page to fetch M. Barillon out of the Queen’s private closet where he was talking with her—­into a little chamber that looked out upon the court, where there was a fire lighted.  We had hardly got there before the Ambassador came, all in haste, to hear what had been done.

“I have spoken with His Majesty,” said the Duke, looking very white and drawn in the face.  “He is in most excellent dispositions.  He tells me that he hath put off the Bishops and has not received the sacrament from them and will not.”

“And what of a priest, Sir?” asked the Ambassador sharply.

“I did not speak to him of that,” answered the Duke so pompously that I raged to hear him.  “He said that Dr. Ken hath read prayers over him, and told him that he need make no confession unless he willed; and that he willed not, and did not; but that Dr. Ken read an absolution over him which he values not at a straw.”

“Sir,” said I, very boldly, “this is very pretty talk; but it is not a priest.  His Majesty wishes for a priest; he told me so himself.”

The Duke turned on me very hotly.

“Eh, sir?”

I made haste to swallow down my wrath.

“Sir,” I said, “I did not mean to be discourteous.  But I assure Your Royal Highness that the King said so to me expressly.  It is his immortal soul that is at stake.”

Then I understood what was the matter.  The Duke flung out his hands as if in despair.

“But what can I do?” he cried.  “I am watched every instant.  They will not leave me alone with him.  Dr. Ken eyed me very sharply.  They suspect something—­I know they do—­from my brother’s having refused their ministrations.  How can I get a priest to him?”

Then again, by God’s inspiration as I truly believe, a thought came to me.

“Sir,” I said, “I myself spoke with the King a while ago:  and I do not think that a soul saw who I was.  I came through the little door at the back of the bed.  Why should not—­”