After standing through an awkward minute or two, Castlemain bowed stiffly to the king and the duchess, turned away from our group, and soon left the ballroom.
When Castlemain was gone, we all laughed save the king. Presently he left us, and I saw him beckon Wentworth and Berkeley to his side. I followed him as though going to the other side of the gallery, but walked slowly when I approached him and the two worthy villains. I was rewarded by hearing his Majesty say:—
"Odds fish! But you made a mess of it! You got the wrong woman! Who in the devil's name did you pick up?"
I could not stop to hear the rest of this interesting conversation, but two days later I heard from Rochester, who had it from Wentworth, that the following occurred:—
"We thought we had her," answered Berkeley, nodding towards Frances, "but the woman wore a full vizard and was wrapped in furs to her ears, so that we did not see her face."
"Do you suppose we could have made a mistake?" asked Wentworth.
"You surely did," answered the king. "She has established an alibi. At what hour did you leave Baynard's Castle?"
"Near one o'clock," returned Berkeley.
"One o'clock! She was playing cards with the duchess till four," exclaimed the king, impatiently. "You picked up the wrong woman. But I'm glad you did. I suppose the lampooners will get hold of the story and will set every one laughing at me. Kidnapped the wrong woman and lost her! Odds fish! But you're a pair of wise ones. I see I shall have to find me a new Lord High Kidnapper."
The king was right concerning the lampooners, for soon they had the story, and he became the laughing-stock of London, though Frances's name was not mentioned.