"I understand you," interrupted George the Fourth, hastily: "her love speedily follows. Be it as you say, sweet lady," he continued, in a slower tone; "and let us secure each other's affections. You shall find me docile and obedient to your will—and this is much for me to promise. But let me hope that the period of probation will not be long—that the hour of recompense is not far distant——"
"Hush, sire!" exclaimed Georgiana, in a reproachful voice: "this is the language of sense—whereas you must secure my affections by the language of sentiment. If you treat me as a woman who is to be purchased as your mistress, let our connexion cease this moment: but if you will woo me as a wife should be won—although I am well aware that your Majesty's wife I can never be——"
"Would that I could marry you this moment!" cried the King, fixing his eyes upon her beauteous countenance; "for you are ravishingly lovely! I would give a year of my life to obtain all I crave this night. Oh! Georgiana, be not so coy and cruel with me—for you madden me—my veins seem to run with molten lead. Be mine at once—and render my happiness complete. Behold that small low door in yonder corner: it opens into a room which may serve as our nuptial chamber. Come, then, dearest Georgiana—let me lead you thither—not cold, hesitating, and resisting—but warm, and impassioned, and prepared to revel in the delights of love! Our privacy will be complete: no intruder need we fear;—and the world will never know that you have become mine."
"Sire, this language on your part—in spite of all the arguments and remonstrances which I have used," exclaimed Lady Hatfield, "is unworthy of a great King and a polished gentleman."
"The madness of love knows nothing of regal rank nor the shackles of etiquette," said the monarch, speaking in a tone of great excitement; "and, in spite of the promises which I just now so rashly made, I cannot endure delay. No—sweetest lady—you must be mine at once!"—and he wound his arms around Georgiana's form, the fury of his desires animating him with a strength against which she could not long have resisted.
But at that moment succour was at hand!
Forth from his place of concealment sprang the Blackamoor; and an ejaculation of surprise and rage burst from the lips of the King, while a cry of joy emanated from those of Lady Hatfield.
"Who are you? and what signifies this intrusion?" demanded George the Fourth, instantly releasing his intended victim at this sudden apparition.
But, without answering the monarch, the Blackamoor hastily led the half-fainting Lady Hatfield to the door—opened it to allow her to pass out of the room—and, closing it behind her, placed his back against it,—the whole being effected with such speed, that Georgiana had disappeared before the King could recover from the astonishment into which the very first step of the bold proceeding had thrown him.
"Villainous negro!" cried the disappointed monarch, at length recovering the power of speech: "do you know who I am, that you have thus dared to outrage me?"