Charles remained silent for a few moments, and then said in a low tone:
"I will strive to follow your counsel, father."
The king was still pondering on what had been said to him, when Mrs. Whitgreave, bearing a taper, entered the room. Robed in white, and looking excessively pale, she looked like an apparition.
Advancing to meet her, Charles said:
"I should have been sorry to quit Moseley Hall without bidding you adieu, madam, but I trust you have not been disturbed from your slumbers on my account."
"I keep long vigils, sire, and often pass the greater part of the night in prayer," she replied. "When my son tapped at my door just now to inform me that your majesty was about to depart, I was praying for your safety."
"I thank you, madam," replied the king, much moved. "The prayers of so excellent a lady must avail me."
"If I live to see your majesty restored to your kingdom, I shall have lived long enough. Here is a little relic," she said, offering him a small silver box. "I dare say your majesty has no faith in such things—nevertheless, I pray you to wear it."
"I will wear it for your sake, madam," he rejoined, taking the little silver box, "and I shall have no doubt of its efficacy."
Charles would then have taken leave of the loyal-hearted dame, but she besought permission to attend him to the outer door.