"Yes, Master Stuart."
"And thou art poor, Margaret?"
"Alas! yes," she replied, "my father was once a royalist officer, and rich; but the civil wars and his sacrifices for his king left him penniless and friendless."
"It has been the fate of many besides him," the monarch observed. "Those same wars were, at one time, the ruin of my own family. But thou, Margaret, shalt be poor no longer. Thou shalt leave this home of penury with me, and I will make thee rich."
"Nay, sir," she said, as he attempted to kiss her, "be not so tender with your kindness. I fear already thy sympathy and its motive."
"Fear nothing from me, pretty one," said Charles, clasping her closely to him.
"Why are we here alone?" she asked, seeming to realize, and be startled at the idea, for the first time; "where is the friend who introduced you—where is Master Granby?"
"He will be here anon, pretty Margaret," replied the king, "his own affairs have called him hence for a time. Heed him not, though, my sweet trembler, my Peri of perfection, my Houri of Paradise! thou art safe with me, and with me thou shalt hie away to regions where love will smile upon thee, and gold will pour in perpetual showers in thy lap."
The monarch became so inexpressibly tender that the maiden, in her own defence, was compelled to scream. After a moment's lapse an approaching step upon the stairs warned the precipitate lover to defer the prosecution of his suit to a more auspicious occasion. He hastened to the door, but, to his astonishment, found it fastened, and on trying the window, that, too, had been externally cared for.
"De Grammont has betrayed me!" he exclaimed, as he drew a concealed pistol from his belt and prepared to confront the coming danger.