Upon this Jocelyn succinctly related to the Ambassador all such particulars of his history as have been laid before the reader.  De Gondomar listened to him with attention, and put some questions to him as he proceeded.  At its close his countenance brightened.

“You are in an awkward dilemma, it must be owned, Master Jocelyn Mounchensey,” he said.  “But I think I can protect you in spite of them all—­in spite of Buckingham himself.  Luckily, he is not at Theobalds at present—­so the coast is clear for action.  The first blow is half the battle.  I must present you to the King without delay.  And see, his Majesty approaches.  Stand close behind me, and act as I advise you by a sign.”

CHAPTER XX.

King James the First.

Meantime the royal cavalcade came slowly up the avenue.  It was very numerous, and all the more brilliant in appearance, since it comprised nearly as many high-born dames as nobles.  Amongst the distinguished foreigners who with their attendants swelled the party were the Venetian lieger-ambassador Giustiniano, and the Marquis de Tremouille, of the family des Ursins, ambassador from France.

These exalted personages rode close behind the King, and one or the other of them was constantly engaged in conversation with him.  Giustiniano had one of those dark, grave, handsome countenances familiarized to us by the portraits of Titian and Tintoretto, and even the King’s jests failed in making him smile.  He was apparelled entirely in black velvet, with a cloak bordered with the costly fur of the black fox.  All his followers were similarly attired.  The sombre Venetian presented a striking contrast to his vivacious companion, the gay and graceful De Tremouille, who glittered in white satin, embroidered with leaves of silver, while the same colour and the same ornaments were adopted by his retinue.

No order of precedence was observed by the court nobles.  Each rode as he listed.  Prince Charles was absent, and so was the supreme favourite Buckingham; but their places were supplied by some of the chief personages of the realm, including the Earls of Arundel, Pembroke, and Montgomery, the Marquis of Hamilton, and the Lords Haddington, Fenton, and Doncaster.  Intermingled with the nobles, the courtiers of lesser rank, and the ambassadors’ followers, were the ladies, most of whom claimed attention from personal charms, rich attire, and the grace and skill with which they managed their horses.

Perhaps the most beautiful amongst them was the young Countess of Exeter, whose magnificent black eyes did great execution.  The lovely Countess was mounted on a fiery Spanish barb, given to her by De Gondomar.  Forced into a union with a gouty and decrepit old husband, the Countess of Exeter might have pleaded this circumstance in extenuation of some of her follies.  It was undoubtedly an argument employed by her admirers, who, in endeavouring to shake her fidelity to her lord, told her it was an infamy that she should be sacrificed to such an old dotard as he.  Whether these arguments prevailed in more cases than one we shall not inquire too nicely; but, if court-scandal may be relied on, they did—­Buckingham and De Gondomar being both reputed to have been her lovers.