word he saith is true. You can't help being handsome, 'Trix; no
more can the prince help following you. My council is that you go out of
harm's way; for, by the Lord, were the prince to play any tricks with you,
king as he is, or is to be, Harry Esmond and I would have justice of him."

"Are not two such champions enough to guard me?" says Beatrix, something
sorrowfully; "sure, with you two watching, no evil could happen to me."

"In faith, I think not, Beatrix," says Colonel Esmond; "nor if the prince
knew us would he try."

"But does he know you?" interposed Lady Esmond, very quiet: "he comes of a
country where the pursuit of kings is thought no dishonour to a woman. Let
us go, dearest Beatrix. Shall we go to Walcote or to Castlewood? We are
best away from the city; and when the prince is acknowledged, and our
champions have restored him, and he hath his own house at St. James's or
Windsor, we can come back to ours here. Do you not think so, Harry and
Frank?"

Frank and Harry thought with her, you may be sure.

"We will go, then," says Beatrix, turning a little pale; "Lady Masham is
to give me warning to-night how her Majesty is, and to-morrow----"

"I think we had best go to-day, my dear," says my Lady Castlewood; "we
might have the coach and sleep at Hounslow, and reach home to-morrow. 'Tis
twelve o'clock; bid the coach, cousin, be ready at one."

"For shame!" burst out Beatrix, in a passion of tears and mortification.
"You disgrace me by your cruel precautions; my own mother is the first to
suspect me, and would take me away as my gaoler. I will not go with you,
mother; I will go as no one's prisoner. If I wanted to deceive, do you
think I could find no means of evading you? My family suspects me. As
those mistrust me that ought to love me most, let me leave them; I will
go, but I will go alone: to Castlewood, be it. I have been unhappy there
and lonely enough; let me go back, but spare me at least the humiliation
of setting a watch over my misery, which is a trial I can't bear. Let me
go when you will, but alone, or not at all. You three can stay and triumph
over my unhappiness, and I will bear it as I have borne it before. Let my
gaoler-in-chief go order the coach that is to take me away. I thank you,
Henry Esmond, for your share in the conspiracy. All my life long I'll
thank you, and remember you; and you, brother, and you, mother, how shall
I show my gratitude to you for your careful defence of my honour?"