"Indeed, no, sir."
"And my Lord Arlington? I know him! He held your arm, to the last, and he smiled to the last?"
"Indeed, sir, my lord was most gentle to me."
"Aye, I know his way. Mr Dale, for this entertainment let me call you friend. Come then, we'll go to the King with it." And, rising, he seized me by the arm and began to drag me off.
"Indeed your Grace must pardon me——" I began.
"But indeed I will not," he persisted. Then he suddenly grew grave as he said, "I am for the liberties of the Kingdom and the safety of the Reformed Religion. Aren't we friends, then?"
"Your Grace does me infinite honour."
"And am I no good friend? Is there no value in the friendship of the King's son—the King's eldest son?" He drew himself up with a grace and a dignity which became him wonderfully. Often in these later days I see him as he was then, and think of him with tenderness. Say what you will, he made many love him even to death, who would not have lifted a finger for his father or the Duke of York.
Yet in an instant—such slaves are we of our moods—I was more than half in a rage with him. For as we went we encountered Mistress Barbara on Lord Carford's arm. The quarrel between them seemed past and they were talking merrily together. On the sight of her the Duke left me and ran forward. By an adroit movement he thrust Carford aside and began to ply the lady with most extravagant and high-flown compliments, displaying an excess of devotion which witnessed more admiration than respect. She had treated me as a boy, but she did not tell him that he was a boy, although he was younger than I; she listened with heightened colour and sparkling eyes. I glanced at Carford and found, to my surprise, no signs of annoyance at his unceremonious deposition. He was watching the pair with a shrewd smile and seemed to mark with pleasure the girl's pride and the young Duke's evident passion. Yet I, who heard something of what passed, had much ado not to step in and bid her pay no heed to homage that was empty if not dishonouring.