and poured out her whole heart to him. "I have," she said, "a
thing of great moment to tell you. If it were known, my head would be in
danger. The King is really and truly a Catholic; but he will die
without being reconciled to the Church. His bedchamber is full of
Protestant clergymen. I cannot enter it without giving scandal. The Duke
is thinking only of himself. Speak to him. Remind him that there is a
soul at stake. He is master now. He can clear the room. Go this instant,
or it will be too late."

Barillon hastened to the bedchamber, took the Duke aside, and delivered
the message of the mistress. The conscience of James smote him. He
started as if roused from sleep, and declared that nothing should
prevent him discharging the sacred duty which had been so long delayed.
Several schemes were discussed and rejected. At last the Duke commanded
the crowd to stand aloof, went to the bed, stooped down, and whispered
something which none of the spectators could hear, but which they
supposed to be some question about affairs of state. Charles answered in
an audible voice, "Yes, yes, with all my heart." None of the bystanders,
except the French Ambassador, guessed that the King was declaring his
wish to be admitted into the bosom of the Church of Rome.

The difficulty was to find a priest at a moment's notice; for, as the
law then stood, the person who admitted a proselyte into the Roman
Catholic Church was guilty of a capital crime. John Huddleston, a
Benedictine monk, however, who had, with great risk to himself, saved
the King's life after the battle of Worcester, readily consented to put
his life a second time in peril for his prince. Father Huddleston was
admitted by the back door. A cloak had been thrown over his sacred
vestments; and his shaven crown was concealed by a flowing wig. "Sir,"
said the Duke, "this good man once saved your life. He now comes to save
your soul." Charles faintly answered, "He is welcome." Huddleston went
through his part better than had been expected, for he was so illiterate
that he did not know what he ought to say on an occasion of so much
importance, and had to be instructed on the spot by a Portuguese
ecclesiastic, one Castel Melhor. The whole ceremony occupied about
three-quarters of an hour; and, during that time, the courtiers who
filled the outer room had communicated their suspicions to each other by
whispers and significant glances. The door was at length thrown open,
and the cro