I raised my eyes and looked him in the face. He was frowning; and his
lips were moving. Evidently he was very angry; and yet he was perplexed,
too.

"Sir, this is precisely what took place. I returned from France last
night, where, as Your Majesty was good enough to remark, I was able to
be of some little service. Upon my return I heard from Mr. Chiffinch
that my 'pretty cousin' as he was kind enough to call her, was in
Whitehall, as one of Her Majesty's ladies. I went to see my cousin,
perhaps a little precipitately, but I went peaceably, first inquiring of
one of Your Majesty's guards where her lodgings were. I knocked,
peaceably, upon the door. An old woman opened to me, and would give me
no intelligible answer to my--peaceable--inquiry as to whether my
cousin were there. I prevented her closing the door in my face, but
peaceably; then a fellow ran out, and asked me who the devil I was.
Again, peaceably, I inquired for my cousin. I even sat down upon the
stairs. Then he made at me; and in self-defence I struck him once, with
my hand. My cousin looked out of a door, and I went up into what I
understood was her parlour. When the guard came, she sent them away,
telling them I was her cousin. The serjeant was impertinent to her; and
she shut the door in his face. I remained five minutes, or six, with my
cousin, and then went peaceably away, and to my lodgings. That is the
entire truth, Sir, from beginning to end."

The King laughed, very short and harsh.

"You put it admirably," he said. "You are a diplomat, indeed."

"That is my defence to Your Majesty; and it is perfectly true--neither
less nor more than the truth. But I am not only a diplomat."