[CHAPTER IX.]
HOW CHARLES SLEPT IN THE SECRET CLOSET; AND HOW CARELESS SLEPT IN A PRIEST'S HOLE IN THE GARRET.
After the long and anxious day he had passed in the oak, it was with a feeling of indescribable satisfaction that Charles found himself once more in Boscobel House—not in the parlour into which he had been shown in the morning, but in the large comfortable hall—a couple of nicely roasted chickens before him, and Dame Joan in attendance. Careless, who was seated at the opposite side of the table, was quite as well pleased as his royal master, and both did justice to the repast provided for them. Charles, as we have already remarked, possessed a happy temperament, that enabled him to cast off his cares, and with plenty to eat, and a flask of good wine within reach—to say nothing of a black-jack full of strong ale, he desired nothing better—and laughed heartily while recounting the many alarming incidents of the day to Joan.
"What trials your majesty must have gone through!" exclaimed the good dame, lifting up her hands. "The saints be praised that you are here to describe them."
"I shouldn't mind passing another day in the oak," observed Charles, "if I were certain of having such a supper as this at the end of it. I trust the noble tree that has given me shelter may 'scape the woodman's axe!"
Just then the door opened, and William Penderel entered, followed by his two brothers.
"William," cried his wife, with irrepressible enthusiasm, "his majesty expects you and your brothers to protect the royal oak!"
"The royal oak!" cried William.
"Thy wife has so named the tree," said the king, "and I approve the designation."
"Then the royal oak it shall be called," cried William, sharing Joan's enthusiasm, as did his brothers.