door, where we waited in the hallway outside to hear his report.
Presently Frances came out to tell us that Betty's injuries were no
greater than a few sprains and bruises, and that the surgeon said she
would be well in a few days.

I could have shouted for joy on hearing the news, but restrained myself,
and suggested to Frances that she go at once to her father's house and
that I go to Whitehall to be there before its awakening.

If I learned that the king had been absent during the night, I should
know with reasonable certainty that he had been privy to the outrage
perpetrated on Frances. If he has been at the palace all night, he might
be innocent of the crime.

"In neither case will I return to Whitehall," declared Frances,
indignantly, when I spoke of the possibility of the king's innocence.

"But you must," I replied insistently. "We must say nothing of your
terrible experience. Publicity of this sort ruins a woman's fair name,
but the result in this case would be far more disastrous. Fear will drive
the king to further acts of villainy to protect himself if he learns that
we suspect him, and your life and mine, as well as George's, may be in
peril. I shall go to my bedroom in the Wardrobe, and no one shall know
that I have not been there all night."

Frances seemed stubborn, but knowing her danger, I continued: "Let
us have a conference with your father and your sister. I deem it best
that we let it be known abroad that you were at your father's house all
night. Since the king did not see you at Merlin House, he may come
to suspect that his agents kidnapped the wrong person. Later on you may