“Let him do so,” the earl said, “and a commission in horse, foot, or artillery is at his service.  And now, with your permission, I will to bed, for my eyelids are consumedly heavy.”

Colonel Holliday rang a hand bell, and a lackey appeared with lighted candles.  Preceded by him the old cavalier accompanied his guest to the door of his apartment, and seeing that a posset cup of spiced cordial was steaming on the table, and that everything else was properly prepared, left him to repose.

Chapter 3:  A Kiss and its Consequences.

Three months have passed since the Earl of Marlborough’s visit to the Chace.  Changes have taken place in England, for on the eighth of March King William died from the effects of a fall from his horse, and the Princess Anne ascended the throne.  After her accession, one of her first steps had been to shower honour upon the Earl of Marlborough.  A whig cabinet was formed, of which he and Lord Godolphin were the leading spirits, two tories however—­Harley and Saint John—­having seats in the ministry.

The Earl of Marlborough was her most trusted adviser.  He had during the reign of the late monarch been always a firm friend of the Princess Anne, and was at one time regarded almost as a tory.  He had indeed plotted for the restoration of the Stuarts, and had entered into negotiation with the French king for that purpose.  The plot having been discovered, he had with other noblemen been sent to the Tower, and had continued in disgrace until a year after the death of William.

Anne appointed him one of her ministers, and made the duchess her most intimate friend.  In fact, in politics the Duke of Marlborough took no very strong part.  He was attached to the Stuarts, for under them he had at first risen to rank and honour; but he was a strong Protestant, and therefore in favour of the maintenance of the Act of Succession, fixing the reversion of the throne on the Elector of Hanover, who, although not the nearest in the line of succession, had been selected because the nearest heirs to the throne were Catholics.

At the Chace things have gone on as before.  Rupert has worked hard at his lessons and his fencing, and Monsieur Dessin allows that, save for his extra length of reach, he should have no advantage now over his pupil.  In the afternoon the lad spent his time with his hawks, or practised firing with pistol or carbine, or roamed over the country with Hugh.

Nevertheless, things had somehow changed.  Colonel Holliday had become gloomy and silent; and although he and his daughter-in-law were studiously ceremonious and polite to each other, it was clear that a cloud had risen between them.  Rupert saw but little of this, however, and was surprised one day when, as he was going out for a ride, his grandfather said to him gravely: 

“Take a turn in the garden with me, Rupert.  I want to have a talk with you.