"Marry, 'tis Strings's, of course," continued Portsmouth, dangling the coat before the wondering eyes of all. "The lace, the ruffle, becomes his complexion. He fits everything here so beautifully."

As she turned the garment slowly about, she caught sight of a package of papers protruding from its inner pocket, sealed with her own seal. For the first time, the significance of the colour of the coat came home to her.

"_Mon Dieu_," she cried, "Adair's coat.--The packet!"

Her fingers sought the papers eagerly; but Nell's eye and hand were too quick for her.

"Not so fast, dear d.u.c.h.ess," said Nell, sweetly, pa.s.sing the little packet to his Majesty. "Our King must read these papers--and between the lines as well."

"Enough of this!" commanded Charles. "What is it?"

"Some papers, Sire," said Nell, pointedly, "given for a kiss and taken with a kiss. I have not had time to read them."

"Some family papers, Sire," a.s.serted the d.u.c.h.ess, with a.s.sumed indifference, "stolen from my house."

She would have taken them from his Majesty, so great, indeed, was her boldness; but Nell again stayed her.

"Aye, stolen," said Nell, sharply; "but by the hostess herself--from her unsuspecting, royal guest. There, Sire, stands the only thief!" She pointed accusingly at Portsmouth.

"My signature!" cried Charles, as he ran his eye down a parchment. "The treaties! No more Parliaments for England. I agreed to that."

"I agree to that myself," said Nell, roguishly. "England's King is too great to need Parliaments. The King should have a confidential adviser, however--not French," and she cast a defiant glance at Portsmouth, "but English. Read on; read on."

She placed her pretty cheek as near as possible to the King's as she followed the letters over his shoulder.

"A note to Bouillon!" he said, perusing the parchments further. "Charles consents to the fall of Luxembourg. I did not sign all this. I see it all: Louis's ambition to rule the world, England's King debased by promises won and royal contracts made with a clever woman--forgery mixed with truth. Sweet Heaven, what have I done!"

"The papers have not gone, Sire," blandly remarked Nell.

"Thanks to you, my Nell," said Charles. He addressed Portsmouth sharply: "Madame, your coach awaits you."

"But, Sire," replied the d.u.c.h.ess, who was brave to the last, "Madame Gwyn has yet Adair to answer for!"

"Adair will answer for himself!" cried Nell, triumphantly.

She threw aside the pink gown and stood as Adair before the astonished eyes of all.

"At your service," she said, bowing sweetly to the d.u.c.h.ess.

"A player's trick!" cried Portsmouth, haughtily, as a parting shot of contempt.

"Yes, Portsmouth," replied Nell, still in sweetest accents, "to show where lies the true and where the false."

"You are a witch," hissed Portsmouth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ONCE MORE YOU HAVE SAVED ME."]

"You are the King's true love," exclaimed the Merry Monarch. "To my arms, Nell, to my arms; for you first taught me the meaning of true love! Buckingham, you forget your courtesy. Her grace wishes to be escorted to her coach."

"_Bon voyage_, madame," said Nell, demurely, as the d.u.c.h.ess took Buckingham's arm and departed.

The King's eyes fell upon the player, Hart, who was still in custody.

"Away with this wretch!" he cried, incensed at his conduct. "I am not done with him."

"Forgive him, Sire," interceded Nell. "He took his cue from Heaven, and good has come of it."

"True, Nell," said the King, mercifully. Then he turned to Hart: "You are free; but henceforth act the knave only on the stage." Hart bowed with shame and withdrew.

"Sire, Sire," exclaimed Strings, forgetting his decorum in his eagerness.

"Well, Strings?" inquired the King, good-humouredly; for there was now no cloud in his sky.

"Let me play the exit for the villains?" he pleaded unctuously. "The old fiddle is just bursting with tunes."

"You shall, Strings," replied his Majesty, "and on a Cremona. From to-day, you lead the royal orchestra."

"Odsbud," cried Strings, gleefully, "I can offer Jack Hart an engagement."

"Just retribution, Strings," laughed Nell, happily. "Can you do as much for Nell, and forgive her, Sire?"

"It is I who should ask your pardon, Nell," exclaimed the King, ecstatically, throwing both arms pa.s.sionately about her. "You are Charles's queen; you should be England's."

_So the story ends, as all good stories should, in a perfect, unbroken dream of love._

EPILOGUE

Spoken by Miss Crosman for the first time in New York at the Bijou Theatre on the evening of October 9, 1900:

_Good friends, before we end the play, I beg you all a moment stay: I warn my s.e.x, by Nell's affair, Against a rascal called Adair!_

_If lovers' hearts you'd truly scan, Odsfish, perk up, and be a man!_

GROSSET & DUNLAP'S DRAMATIZED NOVELS

Original, sincere and courageous--often amusing--the kind that are making theatrical history.

MADAME X. By Alexandre Bisson and J. W. McConaughy. Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.

A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her husband would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for her son is the great final influence in her career. A tremendous dramatic success.

THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.