"I do not know, your Majesty. I only know that I know it, and that I have come here to save you at the risk of my life; but what is my life to the precious life of my King?"
"Betrayed!" repeated George, as if the meaning of the word were slowly coming to him out of a fog. "But to-morrow—to-day—my men will proclaim the restoration."
"Oh, my King! to-morrow—"
"To-morrow I shall be King!" re-echoed George, while his glance wandered round the room, as if seeking to escape from the bore of excitement. "Betrayed! No, no; my men—"
"Your men, Sire, to-night will be dead or in prison," said Mrs. Carey, with increased firmness, reading the puerile nature and seeing the value of emphasis.
"I am to join my gentlemen at Aldershot at noon," muttered the King.
"No, no!" cried Mrs. Carey, and her beautiful hands clasped his arm beseechingly. "Your Majesty will be lost if you attempt to go—all who go there will be lost."
There was a depth in her voice at these words that carried conviction.
"Your Majesty must escape from England to-night!"
"Impossible!" cried George, with some dignity, but more irritation.