“Not so much as you imagine, Wilton,” replied Green.  “I will do it if it is to be done, though I would fain have avoided the act which I must now perform.  Come to me on Monday, Wilton, here upon this road where we now ride, and I think I will put the order in your hand.”

“Alas!” replied Wilton, “Monday will not do.  The liberation must be for to-morrow night to answer the intended purpose.  I have lately thought to do the bold, and perhaps the rash, act of going to the King myself—­telling him all I know—­and beseeching him to set the Duke at liberty.  He even told me once, that I had done him good service, and that he would favour me.  But, alas! kings forget such words as soon as spoken.”

“He has a long memory, this William,” replied Green; “but you shall go with me, Wilton.  If it must be to-morrow, to-morrow it shall be.  Meet me then at twelve o’clock exactly, at the little inn by the water, called the Swan, near Kingston Bridge.  I will be there waiting for you.  It is a likely hour to find the King after he comes from chapel; but I will apply beforehand both in your name and in mine; for I heard some time ago, from Harry Sherbrooke, that you had won such praises from William as he seldom bestows on any one.”

“At twelve to-morrow!” said Wilton, thoughtfully.  “I was to have been at the Tower at twelve to-morrow.  But it matters not.  That engagement I at least may break without losing my honour, or wounding her heart.  But tell me, tell me, Green, is there any hope, is there any chance of our being successful?”

“There is great hope, there is great chance,” replied Green.  “I will not, indeed, say that it is by any means sure; for what is there we can rely upon on earth?  Have I not seen everything break down beneath me like mere reeds, and shall I now put my faith in any man?  But still, Wilton, I will ask this thing.  I will see William of Orange—­I will call him King at once—­for King he is in fact; and far more kingly in his courage and his nature than the weak man who never will wear the crown of these realms again.  We will both urge our petition to the throne; and even if he have forgotten the last words that he said to me, those which you have to speak perhaps may prove sufficient.  He is not a cruel or a bloody-minded man; and I do believe he forgets his enmities more easily than he does his friendships.  If we could have said the same of the race of Stuart, the crown of England would never have rested on the brow of the Prince of Orange.  I thought to have led you to other scenes and other conferences to-night,” he added, “but this matter changes all, and we will now part.  I will to my task, and prepare the way for to-morrow.  You to yours; but fail not, Wilton, fail not.  Be rather before than after the hour.”

“I will not fail,” replied Wilton; and after this short conference, he turned his rein and rode back to London.