So Pope
and I went into the hall, and just as we came into it Mistress Norton
was coming by through it; upon which I, plucking off my hat and standing
with it in my hand as she passed by, Pope looked very earnestly in my
face. But I took no notice of it, but put on my hat again and went away,
walking out of the house into the field."

When he returned, however, the butler followed him into a private room,
and going down on his stiff knees, said, with tears in his old eyes, he
was rejoiced to see his majesty in safety. The king affected to laugh
at him, and asked him what he meant; but Pope told him he knew him well,
for before he was a trooper in his father's service he had been falconer
to Sir Thomas Jermyn, groom of the bedchamber to the king when he was
a boy. Charles saw it was useless longer to deny himself, and therefore
said he believed him to be a very honest man, and besought he would not
reveal what he knew to anyone. This the old man readily promised, and
faithfully kept his word. Having spent a couple of days at Norton's, the
king, by advice of Lord Wilmot, went to the house of a true friend
and loyal man, one Colonel Windham, who lived at Trent. This town was
notable as a very hotbed of republicanism; a proof of which was afforded
his majesty on the very day of his entrance. As he rode into the
principal street, still disguised as a waiting man to Mistress Lane, he
heard a great ringing of bells, and the tumult of many voices, and saw a
vast concourse of people gathered in the churchyard close by. On asking
the cause he was informed one of Cromwell's troopers was telling the
people he had killed Charles Stuart, whose buff coat he then wore;
whereon the rebels rang the church bells, and were about to make a great
bonfire for joy.

Having brought him to Trent, Mistress Lane returned home, carrying with
her the king's friendship and gratitude, of which he gave her ample
proof when he came unto the throne. Charles stayed at Colonel Windham's
over a week, whilst that gallant man was secretly striving to hire
a ship for his majesty's safe transportation into France. Presently
succeeding in this object, the king, yet wearing his livery, and now
riding before Mistress Judith Coningsby, cousin of Colonel Windham,
started with high hopes for Lyme; but at the last moment the captain
of the vessel failed him, and he was again left in a state of painful
uncertainty and danger. Lord Wilmot was sent to ascertain the cau