ged
with air, bellows-like.

"I'm his Majesty's _posse_--hic!" hissed Buzzard in reply.

The two drunken representatives of the law seized each other angrily.
The landlord, in despair, endeavoured hopelessly to separate them.

"A wrangle of the generals," laughed Charles. "Now is our time." He
looked about quickly for an exit.

"Body o' me! The vagabonds'll escape," shouted the landlord.

"Fly, fly!" said Nell. "This way, Charles."

She ran hastily toward the steps leading to the entry-way; the King
assisted her.

"Stop, thief! Stop, thief!" screamed the landlord. "The bill! The bill!"

"Send it to the Duchess!" replied Nell, gaily, as she and the Merry
Monarch darted into the night.

The landlord turned in despair, to find the drunken champions of the
King's law in a struggling heap upon the floor. He raised his foot and
took out vengeance where vengeance could be found.

CHAPTER XI

_In the field, men; at court, women!_

It was the evening of Portsmouth's long-awaited _bal masque_. Music
filled her palace with rhythmic sound. In the gardens, its mellowing
strains died away among the shrubs and over-hanging boughs. In every
nook and corner wandered at will the nobility--the richest--the
greatest--in the land.

None entertain like the French; and the Duchess had, indeed, exhausted
French art in turning the grand old place into a land of ravishing
enchantment, with its many lights, its flowers, its works of art. Her
abode was truly an enlivening scene, with its variety of maskers, bright
dominoes and vizards.

The King was there and took a merry part in all the sport, although,
beneath his swaggering abandon, there lurked a vein of sadness. He
laughed heartily, he danced gaily, he jested with one and all; but his
manner was assumed. The shrewdest woman's eye could not have seen it;
though she might have felt it. Brother James too enjoyed the dance,
despite his piety; and Buckingham, Rochester and a score of courtiers
beloved by the King entered mirthfully into the scene, applauding the
Duchess's entertainment heartily.

As the evening wore apace, the merry maskers grew merrier and merrier.
In a drawing-room adjoining the great ball-room, a robber-band, none
other than several gallants, whose identity was concealed by silken
vizards, created huge amusement by endeavouring to steal a kiss from
Lady Hamilton. She feigned shyness, then haughtiness, then anger; then
she ran. They