“Did she tell you so in the presence of Leonard?” asked Pillichody.

“Why, now I bethink me, he was present,” replied Blaize, involuntarily putting his hand to his shoulder, as he recalled the horsewhipping he had received on that occasion.

“I knew it!” cried Pillichody.  “She is afraid to confess her attachment to the earl.  Is Leonard as much devoted to her as ever?”

“I fancy so,” replied Blaize, “but she certainly gives him no encouragement.”

“Confirmation!” exclaimed Pillichody.  “But fill your glass.  We will drink to the earl’s speedy union with Amabel.”

“Not so loud,” cried Blaize, looking uneasily round the cellar.  “I should not like Leonard to overhear us.”

“Neither should I,” returned Pillichody, “for I have something to say to you respecting him.”

“You need not propose any more plans for carrying off Amabel,” cried Blaize, “for I won’t take any part in them.”

“I have no such intention,” rejoined Pillichody.  “The truth is,” he added, mysteriously, “I am inclined to side with you and Leonard.  But as we have finished our bottle, suppose we take a turn in the court-yard.”

“With all my heart,” replied Blaize.

Immediately after Amabel’s departure Charles proceeded with his courtiers to the garden, and continued to saunter up and down the terrace for some time, during which he engaged Rochester in conversation, so as to give him no pretext for absenting himself.  The king next ascended to the belvedere, and having surveyed the prospect from it, was about to descend when he caught a glimpse of Nizza Macascree on the great staircase, and instantly flew towards her.

“I must have a word with you, sweetheart,” he cried, taking her hand, which she did not dare to withdraw.

Ready to sink with confusion, Nizza suffered herself to be led towards the receiving-room.  Motioning to the courtiers to remain without, Charles entered it with his blushing companion, and after putting several questions to her, which she answered with great timidity and modesty, inquired into the state of her heart.

“Answer me frankly,” he said.  “Are your affections engaged?”

“Since your majesty deigns to interest yourself so much about me,” replied Nizza, “I will use no disguise.  They are.”

“To whom?” demanded the king.

“To Leonard Holt,” was the answer.

“What! the apprentice who brought Amabel hither!” cried the king.  “Why, the Earl of Rochester seemed to intimate that he was in love with Amabel.  Is it so?”

“I cannot deny it,” replied Nizza, hanging down her head.

“If this is the case, it is incumbent on me to provide you with a new lover,” replied Charles.  “What will you say, sweetheart, if I tell you, you have made a royal conquest?”

“I should tremble to hear it,” replied Nizza.  “But your majesty is jesting with me.”