"But you must leave Newmarket unattended and secretly. My horse stands at your Majesty's service."
"And a pretty figure I should cut upon him!" ruefully laughed the king, looking down at his airy attire. "To say nothing of my singed periwig here," and he passed his hand over the spot where the coal-black locks had been scorched and burnt.
"Your Majesty would in any case be safer for finding one of another colour to travel in; and if you'll but keep moving, I'll warrant that Master Alworth will help you to it, and all else you may need."
"Alworth! Richard Alworth!" cried Charles.
"Ay," said Lawrence. "Your Majesty, I take it, can trust him."
"With untold gold," warmly said the king—"with my crown jewels—"
"With yourself, then."
"Have with you, Master Lee;" and the last lingering doubt faded from his face. "Which way?"
The private stair.
"Up by this little staircase."