The king’s will having been already conveyed to the doctor, in the king’s presence colonel Lingen came up to him and said,

’Dr. Bayly, the king, much wishing your aid in this matter, saith he delights not to be a beggar, and yet is constrained thereunto.’

‘I am at his majesty’s disposal,’ returned the doctor, ’although I confess myself somewhat loath to be the beetle-head that must drive this wedge.’

‘Nay,’ said the colonel, ’they tell me that no man can make a divorce between the Babylonish garment and the wedge of gold sooner than thyself, good doctor.’

The end was that he undertook the business, though with reluctance—­unwilling to be ’made an instrument to let the same horse bleed whom the king himself had found so free’—­and sought the marquis in his study.

‘My lord,’ he said, ’the thing that I feared is now fallen upon me.  I am made the unwelcome messenger of bad news:  the king wants money.’

‘Hold, sir! that’s no news,’ interrupted the marquis.  ’Go on with your business.’

‘My lord,’ said the doctor, ’there is one comfort yet, that, as the king is brought low, so are his demands, and, like his army, are come down from thousands to hundreds, and from paying the soldiers of his army to buying bread for himself and his followers.  My lord, it is the king’s own expression, and his desire is but three hundred pound.’

Lord Worcester remained a long time silent, and Dr. Bayly waited, ’knowing by experience that in such cases it was best leaving him to himself, and to let that nature that was so good work itself into an act of the highest charity, like the diamond which is only polished with its own dust.’

‘Come hither—­come nearer, my good doctor,’ said his lordship at length:  ’hath the king himself spoken unto thee concerning any such business?’

’The king himself hath not, my lord, but others did, in the king’s hearing.’

‘Might I but speak unto him—­,’ said the marquis.  ’But I was never thought worthy to be consulted with, though in matters merely concerning the affairs of my own country!—­I would supply his wants, were they never so great, or whatsoever they were.’

’If the king knew as much, my lord, you might quickly speak with him,’ remarked the doctor.

’The way to have him know so much is to have somebody to tell him of it,’ said the marquis testily.

‘Will your lordship give me leave to be the informer?’ asked the doctor.

‘Truly I spake it to the purpose,’ answered the marquis.

Away ran the little doctor, ambling through the picture-gallery, ‘half going and half running,’ like some short-winged bird—­his heart trembling lest the marquis should change his mind and call him back, and so his pride in his successful mediation be mortified—­to the king’s chamber, where he told his majesty with diplomatic reserve, and something of diplomatic cunning, enhancing the difficulties, that he had perceived