the ladies, on the day when the guests were to arrive, to find two pairs of the finest and roundest arms to be seen in England (my Lady Castlewood was remarkable for this beauty of her person), covered with flour up above the elbows, and preparing paste, and turning rolling-pins in the housekeeper’s closet.  The guest would not arrive till supper-time, and my lord would prefer having that meal in his own chamber.  You may be sure the brightest plate of the house was laid out there, and can understand why it was that the ladies insisted that they alone would wait upon the young chief of the family.

Taking horse, Colonel Esmond rode rapidly to Rochester, and there awaited the King in that very town where his father had last set his foot on the English shore.  A room had been provided at an inn there for my Lord Castlewood and his servant; and Colonel Esmond timed his ride so well that he had scarce been half an hour in the place, and was looking over the balcony into the yard of the inn, when two travellers rode in at the inn gate, and the Colonel running down, the next moment embraced his dear young lord.

My lord’s companion, acting the part of a domestic, dismounted, and was for holding the viscount’s stirrup; but Colonel Esmond, calling to his own man, who was in the court, bade him take the horses and settle with the lad who had ridden the post along with the two travellers, crying out in a cavalier tone in the French language to my lord’s companion, and affecting to grumble that my lord’s fellow was a Frenchman, and did not know the money or habits of the country:—­“My man will see to the horses, Baptiste,” says Colonel Esmond:  “do you understand English?” “Very leetle!” “So, follow my lord and wait upon him at dinner in his own room.”  The landlord and his people came up presently bearing the dishes; ’twas well they made a noise and stir in the gallery, or they might have found Colonel Esmond on his knee before Lord Castlewood’s servant, welcoming his Majesty to his kingdom, and kissing the hand of the King.  We told the landlord that the Frenchman would wait on his master; and Esmond’s man was ordered to keep sentry in the gallery without the door.  The Prince dined with a good appetite, laughing and talking very gayly, and condescendingly bidding his two companions to sit with him at table.  He was in better spirits than poor Frank Castlewood, who Esmond thought might be woe-begone on account of parting with his divine Clotilda; but the Prince wishing to take a short siesta after dinner, and retiring to an inner chamber where there was a bed, the cause of poor Frank’s discomfiture came out; and bursting into tears, with many expressions of fondness, friendship, and humiliation, the faithful lad gave his kinsman to understand that he now knew all the truth, and the sacrifices which Colonel Esmond had made for him.

Seeing no good in acquainting poor Frank with that secret, Mr. Esmond had entreated his mistress also not to reveal it to her son.  The Prince had told the poor lad all as they were riding from Dover:  “I had as lief he had shot me, cousin,” Frank said:  “I knew you were the best, and the bravest, and the kindest of all men” (so the enthusiastic young fellow went on); “but I never thought I owed you what I do, and can scarce bear the weight of the obligation.”