his Majesty's left. After the king had been seated a
moment, he rose and asked us to be seated; so we took our places, all
save the king dropping our hats beside us on the floor because of his
Majesty's presence.

I sat next to De Grammont, almost opposite the Abbe, and had a good
opportunity to observe the French emissary. The king's French was
excellent, and the dinner conversation was carried on largely between him
and the Abbe. All subjects were discussed, but the Abbe adroitly avoided
Dunkirk and seemed to prefer talking on religious and philosophical
topics, in which he took the liberty to disagree with the king in many
respects, politely though positively.

I listened attentively, hoping that some tone of the Abbe's voice, a pose
or a gesture, might reveal George Hamilton, if it were he, in the most
excellent disguise I had ever seen. But nothing of the sort occurred, and
before the dinner was over, I was still more convinced that whoever the
Abbe du Boise might be, he was not Hamilton.

After dinner came the heavy wines, of which the Abbe did not partake, and
of which De Grammont and I drank sparingly. All the others, including the
king, were gloriously drunk long before the night was over.

While smoking our pipes, the king, who was eager to get his hands
on French money, told the Abbe that he hoped to see him, with his
credentials, at Whitehall on the second morning following at ten o'clock,
and the Abbe said he would leave his credentials with my Lord Clarendon,
and would be at Whitehall at the hour suggested by the king, for the
purpose of making the French king's offer.

Most of the guests went home between two men, very late at night, but
fortunately I was able to walk home by myself.

I was both glad and disappointed not to find George in the gown of the
Abbe. I was glad because of the risk he would have taken had he come to
England, yet disappointed in missing what would have been the most
picturesque, daring personal exploit of English court history. But on the
whole it was better as it was.

The next morning the king sent for me to come to his closet, and asked if
I knew one Lilly, an astrologer. I answered that I knew little of him
personally, but had heard much of his wisdom and learning.

"Yes, yes, but you know where he lives, do you not? On the Strand, a
dozen houses this side of Temple Bar?" asked the king.

"I have seen the house often, your Majesty," I replied.

"Good! Now listen att