I was now in a distress the most extraordinary: I really knew not my own direction! I had always gone to my apartment in a chair, and had been carried by chairmen officially appointed; and, except that it was in St. James’s palace, I knew nothing of my own situation.
“Near the park,” I told them, and saw my new esquire look utterly amazed at me.
“Ma’am,” said he, “half the palace is in the park.”
“I don’t know how to direct,” cried I, in the greatest embarrassment, “but it is somewhere between Pall Mall and the park.” “I know where the lady lives well enough,” cried one of the chairmen, “’tis in St. James’s street.”
“No, no,” cried I, “’tis in St. James’s palace.”
“Up with the chair!” cried the other man, “I know best—’tis in South Audley-street; I know the lady well enough.”
Think what a situation at the moment! I found they had both been drinking the queen’s health till they knew not what they said and could with difficulty stand. Yet they lifted me up, and though I called in the most terrible fright to be let out, they carried me down the steps.
I now actually screamed for help, believing they would carry me off to South Audley Street; and now my good genius, who had waited patiently in the crowd, forcibly stopped the chairmen, who abused him violently, and opened the door himself, and I ran back to the hall.
You may imagine how earnestly I returned my thanks for this most seasonable assistance, without which I should almost have died with terror, for where they might have taken or dropped me, or how or where left me, who could say?
He begged me to go again upstairs, but my apprehension about the queen prevented me. I knew she was to have nobody but me, and that her jewels, though few, were to be intrusted back to the queen’s house to no other hands. I must, I said, go, be it in what manner it might. All I could devise was to summon Mr. Rhamus, the page. I had never seen him, but my attendance upon the queen would be an apology for the application, and I determined to put myself under his immediate protection.