We must now return for a time to the party which we left upon Tower-Hill. The warder and Sir Harry West walked on talking together, with poor Ida Mara keeping close to the Knight's side, till they were within about thirty yards of the gate of the Tower. Then, however, a slight noise behind caused the good soldier to turn round, exclaiming, "Look sharp to those two men!"

But his command came too late; for at the very same moment that it was uttered, the personage who had been foremost in detaining the fair Italian, darted past the yeoman next him, and, at full speed, ran away in the direction of Petty Wales. The yeoman gave chase, while his companion seized the collar of the other man; but the pursuit was vain, for, embarrassed by his somewhat cumbrous clothing, and being rather fat and pursy withal, the soldier lost ground every minute, and the fugitive disappeared amidst the lanes and alleys, to which he directed his steps.

In the meanwhile, the other man was dragged into the Tower by the neck; and the good old Knight, following with Ida Mara, desired to see the Lieutenant as speedily as possible, in order to ensure her liberation. While the warder was gone for that purpose, Sir Harry West inquired in a whisper, whether Ida really thought that the people, in whose hands he found her, had authority from the King.

"I know not, indeed," she replied; "they always told me they had; but I cannot help thinking that, if it were so, they would have brought me before him yesterday. Instead of that, they took me to a lonely house on a heath, which I heard them call Hampstead, and there they kept me locked up till this morning. They then brought me down into the town, and kept me for an hour in a house out in that direction,"--and she pointed eastward with her hand, "where a woman, dressed in very fine clothes, came and looked at me, but said nothing, and went away again. After that, I was told they must take me to Whitehall: and they were carrying me along thither, when I saw you; and I think," she added, in a lower tone, "Mr. Seymour, too."

"Hush!" said the Knight; "not a word of that;" and as he was still speaking, the warder returned to conduct him to the Lieutenant's lodging.

The man who had been kept without, in the porch of the gateward tower, was ordered to follow, with a yeoman to guard him; and making Ida Mara, who seemed weary and faint, lean upon his arm, Sir Harry accompanied the warder between the walls, and was soon in the presence of Wade, the lieutenant.

That officer, at the first mention of Sir Harry's name, had ordered him to be admitted, though he was in conversation at the time with a gentleman from the Court, who had come upon the pretence of paying a visit to Mr. Seymour, but in reality to smooth down the irritated feelings of the Lieutenant, and induce him to resign his post quietly, without calling attention to the transaction by remonstrance or resistance. A servant had been sent to the apartments of Seymour, to know whether he would admit Sir Charles Warner to speak with him; and the man returned, almost at the same moment that the good old Knight and his fair companion entered the Lieutenant's room.

Sir Harry might perhaps have felt a little alarmed, if he had known the servant's errand; but the first words he heard were: "I have been to Mr. Seymour's, sir, and there saw one of his gentlemen, who says that his master is in bed with a raging headache, and cannot see any one; he would not even go in to tell him."

"Oh! never mind, never mind," replied Warner; "I will see him another day--Master Lieutenant, I will wait a little till you have dispatched this other business, for our conversation was growing interesting. Good morning, Sir Harry West."

"To me extremely so, sir," answered the Lieutenant. "Sir Harry, I am your humble servant. What is this affair the warder tells me of? Pray be seated, young lady. The case does not seem to come within my cognizance."

"It is simply this, sir," replied the old knight. "This young lady I have long known, and dearly love, as to her I owe my life, she having nursed me through the plague some years ago. She is now a gentlewoman attending on the Lady Arabella Seymour; and on crossing Tower-hill but now, I met her, hurried along against her will by two men, one of whom I know to be the servant of a rank impostor and conjurer, one Doctor Foreman."

"Oh! I have seen him," replied the Lieutenant; "he is a knave, if ever there was one."

"Ay, and has many ways of knavery," said Warner; "the report goes, that many have suffered from his practices."

"But what excuse do the men urge," asked the Lieutenant, "for using this violence to the lady?"

"They say they are commanded by the King to bring her before him," answered Sir Harry West.

"I never said so," exclaimed the man, who was standing guarded by a yeoman near the door; "my comrade did, and so he told me, too."

"But where did they first lay hands upon the lady, and when?" asked the Lieutenant, looking towards Ida Mara.

"It was yesterday, somewhat before noon," she replied, in her sweet musical Italian voice. "I had gone out for a short time from Mr. Conyers' house, where the Lady Arabella now lodges, to walk amidst the lanes in the neighbourhood, when these two men, with a third, whom I did not well see, though I think I know him, seized upon me suddenly, and, saying that it was in the King's name, carried me to a place called Hampstead; where, in the midst of a wide heath, close by a deep wood, they placed me in a lonely house, and kept me all the day. I demanded to be brought immediately before the King, but they only laughed at me; and when I would not eat the food they brought, they said that hunger would soon teach me better."

"And why would you not eat, may I ask?" said the Lieutenant.

"Because I was afraid of poison," answered Ida Mara. "The man who I think was with them, is one named Weston, who I know deals in such drugs, and, I fear, fatally."

"Why, that was Weston who was with me just now," exclaimed the fellow at the door. "Some say he is Dr. Foreman's son, and some his nephew."

"And do you pretend," asked the Lieutenant, "that you have any commission from the King?"

"Not I, sir," replied the man; "'twas Weston said so, and he told me the same story, engaging me to go with him, and promising me a noble for my reward."

"The case seems very clear," said the Lieutenant; "the King would never employ such instruments as these; and I think, Sir Harry, that I had better keep the fellow for the stocks, and send the gentlewoman away with you."

"It were the more prudent course," said Warner, interposing, "to convey them both to the King. His Majesty's name having been used, we cannot take upon ourselves to judge what people he, in his wisdom, may think fit to employ; and, as the other man, it seems, is no longer here, from what the warder said, to answer for himself, none is so fit to investigate the matter as his Majesty."

"Of course, of course," said the Lieutenant; "and as your reasons seem to me just, Sir Charles, I think I must act upon them.--Do you not think so, Sir Harry West?"

"That you must decide yourself," replied Sir Harry; "but if such be your determination, I will ask you to wait for half an hour, till I can send two of my own men to accompany this fair lady to the Court, and guard her back to my house, in case the King should not detain her at the palace; for I have myself business which takes me in a different direction."

"I must return to Highgate with all speed, dear Sir Harry," exclaimed Ida Mara; "the Lady Arabella will, I know, be alarmed at my long absence."

The old Knight mused, and then answered, "It will be too late to return to-night; but I will let the lady know that you are safe, as soon as letter or messenger can reach her. But you will need refreshment, too, my poor child?"

"That she shall have while waiting for your men," replied the Lieutenant; "and fatherly care, depend upon it. Come, fair lady, I will take you to good Mrs. Wade, my maiden sister, who has a tender compassion for all distressed damsels, and will show you all kindness and courtesy."

"The servants shall be here with all speed," said Sir Harry, rising. "Farewell, my dear child; we shall meet again, I trust, ere night. Then you shall tell me more of your adventures."

The Lieutenant, according to his word, led poor Ida Mara to his sister, who fulfilled his promise of showing her kindness; and, about half an hour after, she was placed in a boat, with good Matthew Lakyn and another servant of Sir Harry West's, as well as a yeoman of the guard, and the man who had remained in custody. It took them near an hour to reach Whitehall, for the tide had not yet turned in their favour; and the fair Italian was kept waiting for an equal space of time in a corridor, exposed to the gaze of all the passers by, and to the coarse observations of several of them.

At length, however, an usher approached with a rapid but silent step, and told her to follow to the presence of the King. She found the Monarch in his closet with several gentlemen, some of whom she knew by sight, while the rest were strangers to her. Accustomed as she had been for some years to see the monarch daily, Ida Mara easily judged that he was in no very placable humour, by the way in which he moved about in his chair, and lolled his tongue out of his mouth.

"What's this, my woman, what's this?" he said, when she appeared. "No sooner have we done with one pother about the Lady Arabella, our headstrong kinswoman, than there comes another. Our Lieutenant at the Tower sends us word that you have been carried off forcibly from Highgate. What did these fellows say?"

"That it was by your majesty's commands," replied Ida Mara, "and consequently I obeyed implicitly."

"The condemned liars!" cried the King; "but you did right, lassie; you did right. What may this mean, my Lord Northampton? Why should any two men seek to carry off this young gentlewoman, and use our name to further their purposes?"

"In truth, sire," replied the Earl, "if your majesty's keen judgment does not perceive the cause, it is vain for me to seek it; but I cannot help thinking that the King has already judged of the matter, and inquires but to show our want of skill."

"We have an inkling, we have an inkling," answered James, laughing, "and will send off to Highgate this very afternoon. Tell me, pretty mistress, have you ever given the Lady Arabella any offence?"

"None, may it please your majesty," replied Ida Mara, eagerly. "I have ever striven to serve her faithfully and well, owing her my first duty, after God and your majesty."

"Ay, but," demanded the King, "may she not think, that your first duty was owing to her, before God and myself?"

"I trust not, sire; I trust not," replied Ida Mara, timidly, and not knowing what was to come next. "I have always heard the Lady Arabella express herself most submissively towards your majesty."

"That's right, that's right," said the King; "submission in words is something, but we must have submission in deeds too, before we grant favour. And so, she never complained to you of the restraint to which we have thought it right, for her own good and that of the state, to subject her?"

"Never, sire," replied Ida Mara, simply; "I have seen her weep often; but never heard her complain."

"That's right, that's right," repeated James; "but yet it's just possible, mistress, that she may have been deceiving you."

"Oh no," cried Ida Mara, with the blood mounting to her cheek. "I do not think that she is capable of deceiving any one."

"We shall see, we shall see," answered the King. "And so these men told you that I had commanded them to seize you. When was this, lassie?"

"Yesterday morning, towards noon," replied Ida Mara, "and they persisted in the same story to-day, when I met Sir Harry West on Tower Hill, and asked his protection."

"And what did Sir Harry reply to them?" demanded James. "He is a wise man, Sir Harry West, and not that unlearned in the humane letters. He expounded one night a passage of the Italian poet, Dante, without having heard an opinion upon the subject, in a manner quite conformable to our own, and thereby put to shame a gentleman of that country, who insisted upon it, in spite of our expressed opinion, to which he might have reasonably bowed, that there was no latent or hidden meaning in the poet's words, but a mere open and plain poetical figure. What said the Knight, I ask?"

"He said, sire," replied Ida Mara, "that he was sure your majesty would never use such instruments as they were, and he called up some of the yeomen of the guard, who were standing before the gate, and placed us all under their charge."

"The Knight was right, in fact, but wrong in inference," answered the King; "we did not employ the men; but there is no telling what instruments kings may sometimes see fit to use. That their own wisdom must decide. Then, again, as to his conduct, Sir Harry displayed his skill and judgment in a manner that deserves our approbation. Had he taken upon him to deliver you with his own hand, besides the chance of brawling, which is always an offence, he might have trespassed unwittingly on his duty to us. But, in placing the matter in the hands of our officers, he could not go wrong."

"It seems to me, sire," said the Earl of Northampton, "that these men, who have dared to use your majesty's sacred name in an unlawful manner, must lose their ears. I look upon this to be a very great offence."

"Of that there can be no doubt," replied the King; "but we will confront the man they have caught with this young gentlewoman, and hear what he has to say. Let the fellow be brought hither."

The King's orders were immediately obeyed; and the personage who had aided in carrying off Ida Mara from Highgate was brought, white and trembling, into the King's presence. He was subjected by James himself to a very close and keen examination; but he persisted in the story he had told the Lieutenant of the Tower, saying, that the man by whom he had been employed assured him that it was by the King's commands, and declaring that he knew nothing further on the subject. He acknowledged, indeed, that what Ida Mara had said was correct in all points, but protested that nothing could be farther from his thoughts than to use the King's name unauthorized.

When questioned as to the name and character of his employer, he hesitated a little, but at length mentioned again the name of Weston, adding, that he was attached to Doctor Foreman, the celebrated Physician and Naturalist,--for such was the term which the charlatan thought fit to apply to his more secret avocations, though he certainly used it in a sense very different from that which is attached to it at present.

The name of Doctor Foreman, however, created a little confusion in the King's closet. Lord Rochester and the Earl of Northampton whispered together for a moment behind the monarch's chair; and Rochester then addressed a few words to James himself, in an under tone.

"Ay, what, are you there?" exclaimed James; "have you only just arrived at it? I saw the matter from the beginning. This young gentlewoman did not serve the people's turn, to carry on their correspondences and communications; and so they have had her removed. But the lady shall to Durham to-morrow, if I am a crowned King; and you, my pretty mistress, shall be restored to her, with such other maids as she shall choose, knowing right well how to select those that will be faithful and true, and not plotters and contrivers. Who is that knocking at the door? See, Carro! We will not have any one admitted just now."

Lord Rochester quitted the closet for a moment, and then returned with a face full of consternation.

"Mr. Conyers, may it please your majesty," he said, "is waiting without. I have not spoken to him, but the page says he is in dreadful agitation, on account of the Lady Arabella's escape."

"Ha! how! what!" exclaimed the King. "Her escape! Body o'me! Call him in, call him in. How now, sir?" he continued, as Mr. Conyers appeared, with strong marks of emotion on his countenance. "What's your news?"

"Such as I hardly dare to communicate, sire," replied Mr. Conyers, "though I have ridden post-haste to tell them. On my return to Highgate, after paying my respects to your majesty, I found that--almost all the people of the house having been sent out of the way during my absence, upon one pretence or another--the Lady Arabella had made her escape."

"I told you so! I told you so!" exclaimed James: "the carrying off this girl was the first step. This is a deep-laid conspiracy--a plot as detestable as that of the Papists. Send for Cecil immediately--send for Cecil. Let the Council be summoned within an hour. My Lords, we must look to the safety of the state! There is no knowing where this may end. We shall have a rebellion. If such a firebrand as this kinswoman of ours falls into the hands of foreign potentates, what is to become of us?"

The confusion which now took place in the royal closet was beyond description. All order and regularity were lost in a moment. Every one talked to his neighbour. Very little real reverence was shown to the King. Some shrugged their shoulders and turned up their eyes; and James himself was in the most pitiable state of agitation. He relieved himself at length by five or six horrible oaths; and then, with difficulty obtaining silence, he addressed Mr. Conyers in an angry tone, interrupting his speech to that gentleman from time to time, to make some observation to his favourite, or those around.

"Sir," he said, "you have betrayed our confidence, and misused our trust.--Have you sent for Cecil, my Lord Northampton?--If you had been vigilant, sir, this could not have happened. You do not know the consequences, sir, of what has taken place.--The devil is in these women, Carro; they are always making mischief, and there is never any telling where it will stop.--You should have given us information of the first suspicious circumstance."

"I saw none, your majesty," replied Mr. Conyers, boldly. "Don't interrupt us, sir," exclaimed the King; "there are some men that have no eyes to see with, and some that do not choose to use them when they have got them. Now, I'll warrant you that you have come away without any clue to this mystery. My Lord Northampton, send off directly to the Tower and order that young ne'er-do-well, William Seymour, to be put in close confinement; and he added a coarse allusion to the probability of children springing from the marriage of that gentleman with Arabella.

"Well, sir," he proceeded, turning to Mr. Convers again, "have you any clue, I say?--I'll wager now you have come away without any precautions at all, just to give the girl time to escape."

"No, sire," replied Mr. Conyers, "though I thought my first duty was to make known to your majesty what had taken place during my absence, I took care, while my horse was being brought, to give orders for immediate pursuit in every direction; and very probably before I return the Lady Arabella may have been brought back, or, at all events, information may have been obtained as to what course she has taken."

"Go and see; go and see," cried the King, "and let us have instant tidings of what you discover. Present yourself to-morrow at ten before the Council, and bring all whom you may judge to have participated in this conspiracy along with you. Call a clerk, my Lord of Rochester; we will ourselves immediately dictate a proclamation."

"What is to be done with this young gentlewoman, sire?' asked the Earl of Northampton.

"Grey and Bradshaw will be very happy to take care of her," said Lord Rochester; "they have long wanted an opportunity of showing her their devotion."

"Hout, hold your silly tongue, with your gibing," cried James, "this is a serious affair, young man. Where can the girl be bestowed, Northampton?"

"May it please your majesty," said Ida Mara, "I would fain retire to the house of Sir Harry West, who is my first friend in this country. I can then wait your majesty's commands, if you should have anything else to require of me."

"That is right; that is right," replied James; "you are a wise and well-spoken young woman, and shall not be forgotten. The very fact of their having you conveyed out of the way, when the conspirators were about to execute the plot, is a proof that you did your duty faithfully to your King. You may retire. Now, send that man to the Fleet. By God's will, he shall stand on the pillory, unless he makes full confession. Hold your tongue, sir! We have no time to deal with you now. Sit down there, master clerk, and write."

The King then proceeded to dictate a proclamation, which was afterwards modified by the advice of Cecil, but which in the first draft displayed, in a most ludicrous manner, the trepidation into which he was thrown by Arabella's escape. He worked himself into the belief, and even contrived to impress the same idea upon the minds of most of his councillors, that the flight of his kinswoman, instead of being the mere effect of her attachment to her husband, originated in some dark and sinister design against his throne and family. His excited imagination pictured her throwing herself into the arms of some inimical power, and, supported by fleets and armies, contesting with him the Crown of England. He saw Papists and Protestants alike in revolt against his authority, rebellion spreading over the land, and his very person in danger. In fact, all the wild images that could suggest themselves to the mind of a weak, cowardly, and tyrannical prince, rose up before him in an instant, and displayed their effect in every word and action.

Nor did his terrors fail to be greatly increased when information was brought from the Tower, that William Seymour was no longer to be found within its walls; and the whole Court was in a state of movement and agitation during the greater part of that night and the succeeding morning. Letters were despatched to every port of the kingdom, with orders to stop the fugitives, and to send out vessels for their pursuit, if already at sea. Each of these despatches was marked with the superscription, common in those days on occasions of great importance, "With haste--post haste! Ride for your life--your life!" And one of them, still in existence, bears the figure of a gallows and a halter, as an emblem of the King's wrath against any one who should dare to disobey.