ly committed
the charge of his daughter, and his only anxiety now was, to anticipate
the confusion that was likely to arise when her real parentage was
made known to his father. Wisely, however, he suffered not these
anticipations to interfere with the delight of his present situation,
in the course of which many slight but delightful tokens of recognition
were exchanged, without censure, under the eye of Lady Peveril, under
cover of the boisterous mirth of the old Baronet, who spoke for two, ate
for four, and drank wine for half-a-dozen. His progress in the
latter exercise might have proceeded rather too far, had he not been
interrupted by a gentleman bearing the King's orders, that he should
instantly attend upon the presence at Whitehall, and bring his son along
with him.

Lady Peveril was alarmed, and Alice grew pale with sympathetic anxiety;
but the old Knight, who never saw more than what lay straight before
him, set it down to the King's hasty anxiety to congratulate him on
his escape; an interest on his Majesty's part which he considered by no
means extravagant, conscious that it was reciprocal on his own side.
It came upon him, indeed, with the more joyful surprise that he had
received a previous hint, ere he left the court of justice, that it
would be prudent in him to go down to Martindale before presenting
himself at Court--a restriction which he supposed as repugnant to his
Majesty's feelings as it was to his own.

While he consulted with Lance Outram about cleaning his buff-belt and
sword-hilt, as well as time admitted, Lady Peveril had the means to give
Julian more distinct information, that Alice was under her protection by
her father's authority, and with his consent to their union, if it could
be accomplished. She added that it was her determination to employ the
mediation of the Countess of Derby, to overcome the obstacles which
might be foreseen on the part of Sir Geoffrey.

CHAPTER XLIX

In the King's name,
Let fall your swords and daggers!
--CRITIC.

When the father and son entered the cabinet of audience, it was easily
visible that Sir Geoffrey had obeyed the summons as he would have
done the trumpet's call to horse; and his dishevelled grey locks and
half-arranged dress, though they showed zeal and haste, such as he would
have used when Charles I. called him to attend a council of war, seemed
rather