All Charles’s prayers were vain.  Marguerite had a migraine, and could not have the honour of receiving the king’s farewell.  He finished his breakfast, took a courtier’s leave of his hostess, and set forth on his homeward way, respectfully attended by Le Gallais.  They walked through the streets in silence for some time, the king having quite enough sense to be ashamed of his situation.

“You have an interest,” he presently said, “in yonder ladies, captain?”

“I have, sir.  I am M. de Maufant’s friend.”

“And therefore my enemy, I take it.  No matter, you have served me a good turn.”

Soon the strangely-assorted couple approached the quay.  Scarcely anyone being abroad at that early hour.  Moreover they had come down to the bridge head by way of the Gallows-hill, to avoid the publicity of the main streets.  As they parted, Charles turned kindly to his unwonted follower, and said once more—­

“We shall not forget our obligation to you, Captain Le Gallais, whenever a time comes for proper acknowledgment.  Meantime, if you will not own us as your king, tell me, as man to man, if there be anything in which Charles Stuart can serve you.”

“Aye, is there,” answered the Jerseyman, out of the fullness of his heart.  “For your own sake, sir, leave us.  We are a simple folk, unused to the ways of the great world, and only asking to be left in peace.”

“By the faith of a gentleman,” muttered Charles, as he made his way out to the castle, “the islander is right in his amphibious way.  The solemn league and covenant is not amusing, but it cannot be worse than living here like a seal upon a rock; and when one goes forth to talk to a comely wench, being reconducted to one’s rock by a Puritan with webbed feet.  Yet he hath saved me from a shrewd pinch, and that is the truth.”

It will not be supposed that Charles was all at once prepared to drop the little intrigue—­so united to his already corrupted character, into which he had been led by Benoist’s insidious suggestions, acting upon a mind always anxious for excitement, and predisposed by the talk of the deceased groom-of-the-chamber.  But the danger which he had incurred was a warning in the opposite direction.  Benoist was in hiding, and appeared no more in the castle; lastly, the negotiations with the Scots now became so urgent and so perpetual as to require his almost constant presence and personal influence.  The opposing motives and conflicting opinions of his various advisers often kindled into violent altercation, in composing which the really excellent qualities of the young king’s prematurely developed character had room for beneficial action.  So the ladies of Maufant were left free from a troublesome persecution, against which, nevertheless, they took all due precautions.