“My sword and life are yours.”
Portsmouth looked deeply into Nell’s honest eyes. She was convinced.
“This little packet,” said she, in subdued tones, summoning Nell to her side, “a family matter merely, must reach the Rainbow Tavern, on the Canterbury Road, by sunrise, where one is waiting. You’ll find his description on the packet.”
Nell sheathed her sword.
“I know the place and road,” she said, earnestly, as she took the papers from the Duchess’s hand and placed them carefully in her doublet.
A rustle of the curtains indicated that some one had returned and was listening by the arras.
“Hush!” cautioned Portsmouth. “Be true, and you will win my love.”
Nell did not reply, save to the glance that accompanied the words. Snatching her hat from a chair on which she had tossed it, she started eagerly in the direction of the great stairs that led to the hallway below, where, an hour since, she had been at first refused admission to the palace. Could she but pass again the guards, all would be well; and surely there was now no cause for her detention. Yet her heart beat tumultuously–faster even than when she presented herself with Rochet’s letter written by herself.
As she was hastening by the arras, her quick eye, however, recognized the King’s long plume behind it; and she halted in her course. She was alert with a thousand maddening thoughts crowding her brain, all in an instant.
“The King returned–an eavesdropper!” she reflected. “Jealous of Portsmouth; his eyes follow her. Where are his vows to Nell? I’ll defame Nell’s name, drag her fair honour in the mire; so, Charles, we’ll test your manliness and love.”