In the great drawing-room of Lord Pembroke's house at Wilton sat the King and Queen of England, offering a strange contrast to each other, both in person and manners; she, in the beauty, grace, and suavity, for which she was famous, and which won the hearts of her husband's people; and he, in the ungainly ugliness, awkwardness, and pride, which regal state only served to render more prominent and remarkable. They were surrounded by a brilliant court, though not a very ample one; for the fears entertained of the plague, which was then raging in England, induced the monarch to keep at a distance a great number of the principal nobles of the land. But the taste of the Queen for splendour, and the love of the King for fine clothing, not on his own person, but on his favourites, ensured that the most costly stuffs and the richest hues should be displayed around him, as if for a contrast to his own slovenly and ill-fashioned garments.

With all her popular qualities, Anne of Denmark had, as is well-known, not only a strong, but a somewhat passionate spirit; and there was a heightened spot in her fair cheek which showed to those who knew her, that something had gone wrong between her husband and herself. Nothing had, indeed, occurred in public to indicate what was the occasion of quarrel, for the Court was merely assembled to receive the address of some neighbouring town, the King having been induced to admit the deputation, not without much persuasion and argument.

His demeanour to the worthy mayor and aldermen had been cold and repulsive, while that of Anne had been full of gracious condescension and kindness. The King had made an harangue after his style, in which he set forth the rights of kings, and dwelt much more upon his own authority and dignity, than upon the loyalty of his people generally, or that of the corporation before him in particular; and the deputation retired, delighted with the manners and appearance of the Queen, but somewhat sick and disgusted with his Majesty, and utterly at a loss to know what he meant by the long disquisition into which he had entered.

The moment they were gone, James began to fidget in his seat, looked twice round to the face of Arabella Stuart, who stood on the left hand of the Queen's chair, and then gave a nod to one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber, saying, in a low voice, "Now, bring them in, bring them in."

"I wonder what nonsense is to be enacted now!" said Anne of Denmark, addressing Arabella in a whisper, and in the Italian tongue, which, notwithstanding her northern extraction, she spoke much more fluently than English. "The King has some surprise in store--he is too fond of this stage effect."

"I really do not know," replied Arabella, whose cheek was pale, and her voice faint. "I hope and trust he is not going to enter upon the affair of that unfortunate quarrel, which I mentioned to your Majesty. I fear it may be so, for he insisted upon my being present to-day, though I felt unwell, and little equal to the task. Neither do I see Sir Lewis Lewkenor nor Mr. Seymour present."

"We shall soon know," answered the Queen; "but don't be alarmed, poor child; I'll quiet the matter. But who are these they are bringing in? No, this is some other affair."

As she spoke, two officers, with several halberdiers, entered the room, escorting three men, evidently prisoners, for though their limbs were at liberty, they wore neither sword nor dagger, as was customary for all gentlemen in those days, while before and after each walked an armed soldier of the guard.

"There, there!" cried the King, "bring them not too near--that will do; let them stand there. Show your faces, sirs, so that this lady may see them. Now, Lady Arabella, look at these men well, and tell me if any of them were amongst those who accompanied the Baron de Mardyke--whom you once told me of, and who has since fled from England--when he began broaching to you treason, at a time when we had scarce crossed the border to take possession of the throne, which descended to us by hereditary right. Why, what ails the lassie? She's as white as a Holland sheet, and shaking like a man in an ague!"

"Oh, sire, I do beseech you!" exclaimed Arabella, "do not force me to become a witness against any of these misguided men. I did hope and trust that, in dealing openly with your Majesty, as in duty bound, and in concealing nothing, even when it seemed to me trifling, which affected your Majesty's sacred rights, you would spare me, and not force me to take any farther part in matters that might doom them to death. Surely, your Majesty's own wisdom and judgment are sufficient to condemn or exculpate them, without my having any share in it."

As she spoke, she held her eyes resolutely down, while Sir Griffin Markham, who stood in the front, fixed on her a keen and anxious glance, knowing how much it would aggravate his crime, if it could be proved that he was the very first to move in the treason, for which he was now a prisoner, and that he had twice put himself forward to oppose the King's title to the crown.

"Nonsense!" cried the King; "we must first know the truth, madam, before we can judge of it. Look at them this minute, I say. We have examined them ourselves this morning, and must hear whether their story be true. What are you afraid of?"

"She is afraid, to be sure," said Anne of Denmark, interposing, of "being called hereafter into a rude court of justice, questioned by brutal lawyers, exposed to the gaze of the rabble, and all those things to which a lady of her rank and age ought not to be subjected."

"If that be all," said Cecil, taking a step forward, "I know his Majesty does not propose that the Lady Arabella should be called as a witness on the trial; and, of course, to satisfy his Majesty upon the point in question, here in private, she can have no hesitation. The King will not be satisfied," he added, in a low tone, to Anne of Denmark, while James called one of the ushers to him, and made him arrange the prisoners in a line--"the King will not be satisfied without an answer; and the sooner this scene is over the better."

"Now look at the men, lady," said James, as soon as he saw that the culprits were disposed according to his pedantic notions of regularity, "and answer my question."

"I did not hear it rightly, sire," answered Arabella, still hesitating and trembling.

"Then you should make better use of your luggs," cried the monarch, sharply. "I told you to look at these three men, and say whether you saw either of them with the Baron de Mardyke, who has fled from England, what time he held some conversation with you in Cambridgeshire, for I find by faithful witnesses that they were all in those parts about that time."

Arabella raised her eyes timidly, and gazed at the three prisoners, while Sir Griffin Markham turned as pale as death, and the two priests looked sternly down upon the ground. The lady's eyes first turned upon Watson, and then upon Clarke, the latter of whom had, indeed, been at the inn on the occasion referred to. Being one of those, however, who had remained behind in the kitchen, while she had conversed with the knight in the next room, and had sat with his back towards her, as she passed out again, the glance she had had of his features was very slight. She then turned towards Markham, and her heart beat quick when she recognised the person who had assumed the name of the Baron de Mardyke. Immediately after, however, the terms of the King's question came back to her mind, and though her pure, high heart dreaded the thought of prevarication, she did not feel herself bound to do more than answer it exactly as it stood.

"I do not see any one, sire," she replied, after a moment's consideration, "who I can be sure was with the Baron de Mardyke on the occasion to which your Majesty refers. Two of their faces I have seen somewhere before, but----"

"Come, come," cried the King, interrupting her; "we must have a clearer answer, Mistress Arabel. Take them one by one. Stand forward, Father Watson--though why we should call you Father, I don't know. Now, lady, is this man one of them?"

"I never saw his face before," replied Arabella.

"Now, Father Clarke," continued the King, "it's your turn now;" and as the priest came forward, James turned his eyes to Arabella's face.

"Somewhere I have seen this gentleman," she said, after gazing at him attentively; "but I do not by any means know that it was there--it might have been anywhere else as well."

The King looked dissatisfied, and lolled his tongue about in his mouth.

"Now, Sir Griffin Markham," he cried; and at the sound of his name Arabella started with a feeling of relief, while the King turned to her, inquiring, "Well, what do you say to him?"

Arabella gazed on him steadfastly, and then replied, "In this case I am quite sure, sire, that this gentleman, who you say is Sir Griffin Markham, was not with the Baron de Mardyke at that time."

The lips of the prisoner moved without giving utterance to any sound, but he said in his heart, "If I live, lady, I will not forget your conduct this day, and will repay it."

Arabella felt her heart sink; for though what she said was literally true, yet it was calculated to mislead; and she loved not to do so, even to save a fellow-creature's life.

"There, take them away, take them away," cried the King, disappointed; for he had fancied that his skill and dexterity had puzzled out a connexion between the schemes formerly revealed to him by his fair cousin, and those in which Lord Cobham had been lately engaged. "Away with them! away with them!--and now we will proceed to that other business."

"I beseech you, sir," said Anne of Denmark, as the prisoners were removed from the room; "to suffer me and these ladies to retire, if you have any more such matters to inquire into. They neither please nor befit us; and our fair cousin here is not so well as to endure such things with safety."

"Ay, but she must stay--she must stay," cried the King; "for this is a matter regarding which she only can speak. Call Mr. Seymour here, and Sir Lewis Lewkenor. We must hear how all this befel."

"I beseech you, sire, let me go," said Arabella. "I have been frightened and agitated already this morning, by the quarrel of these gentlemen. I have been also agitated by the questions your Majesty has asked. I have told you all that occurred."

"No, no, that wont do," cried James; "you must repeat it here in order."

"Then let me do so, sire, at once," said Arabella. "The first dispute was, which should place me on my horse, and Mr. Seymour having done so, Sir Lewis reproached him for taking what he called his place, saying that his office in your Majesty's court entitled him to it. Mr. Seymour replied, however, that your commands to escort me were first given to him: that his rank, and the fact of his bearing in his veins the same blood as your Majesty, however distantly, gave him precedence over any simple knight, and that he should think he was wanting even in duty to you if he did not take upon him the post which you had assigned him."

"Well, what more, what more?" cried the King, just as William Seymour, followed by an usher, entered the drawing-room, and approached the circle. "There were after words, I think?"

"But few, sire," replied Arabella, the warm blood coming up into her cheek; "Mr. Seymour rode for some way on my right hand, while Sir Lewis on the left seemed sullen and discontented. At length, however, he came round and insisted that Mr. Seymour should give up that place to him."

"There he was wrong," cried the King; "there he was wrong. What more, lady?"

"Really, I cannot justly tell, sire," replied Arabella; "I was much frightened, and not a little displeased; and after some sharp words between the two gentlemen, Mr. Seymour yielded, I think out of pity to me, and came to the other side."

"There he was right," said James. "But where is Sir Lewis Lewkenor! Have you called him, usher?"

"He is in bed, your Majesty," said the other, "and humbly begged your Majesty would excuse him."

"In bed?" exclaimed the King; "why, what ails him? He has not got the plague, has he?"

"No, your Majesty," replied the usher; "he's somewhat badly wounded in the shoulder."

"I found myself bound, sire," said William Seymour, taking a step forward, "to punish a personage who thought fit to use towards me words unbecoming a gentleman to give or to receive; and who had, moreover, paid no respect either to my rank or station, to my distant relationship to your Majesty, or to your own will in naming me the first to escort the Lady Arabella hither."

"And so ye have fought?" cried the King, opening his large eyes, and gaping upon him with his mouth, as if in utter astonishment; "and so ye have fought.--My truly! ye are a graceless pack; and if ye have drawn your swords within the precincts of our court, ye shall both suffer accordingly."

"No, sire," replied Seymour; "we took care not so to offend. But immediately on our return, we went beyond the park walls to a spot about a mile and a half distant, and there ended our quarrel as became us."

"Became you?" cried the King; "I'd have you to know, that nothing of the kind becomes you at all--I will have a stop put to such things, and no more bickering, and quarrelling, and taking to the strong hand in my dominions. As ye punished him, as ye call it, I'll punish you and banish you from our realm, not to return till our pleasure. Ye take much upon you, sir, on the strength of a very distant relationship to ourselves; ye set great store by a small matter."

"No small matter, sire, in my eyes, to be ever so distantly related to your Majesty," replied the young gentleman, who, though grieved and indignant, was anxious if possible to conciliate the King, and obtain a reversal of his sentence.

"That's not ill-spoken, sir," answered James; "but, nevertheless, we will have you take the air of the continent for a couple of years; the warmer climate may suit your warm blood, and when we have sure proof that it has grown cooler, we will let you come back again, but not before; for we are resolved that such strife shall no longer go on."

William Seymour stood before the King for a moment without reply. There was, indeed, an answer springing to his lips; that it was not in the power of any King, by his mere word, to banish a British subject from the land of his birth. But he recollected that by such conduct he might blast all his own dearest hopes for ever; that there were means, too, within the reach of those in authority to change the fate which seemed to await him even for a worse; and in the mood which apparently reigned throughout the whole court and kingdom, the King's will, he feared, would be taken for law.

A hope, too, might enter into his breast, that by using the influence of his family and friends he might shake the monarch's decision; and, amongst the multitude of hurrying thoughts that crossed his mind, during the single moment that he stood there silent, there came a sweet, delusive dream, full of romance and love,--for it could not be called a plan,--which made him fancy that, under some circumstances, his exile might be converted into the brightest of blessings.

After a brief pause, then, he bowed and retired, thinking that he caught upon the countenance of Cecil a slight smile, as if the minister were not altogether displeased at the course which events had taken, but unable to comprehend whence arose the enmity which that look betrayed.