As I could not advance any farther—for I saw that the Queen was present, which frightened me tenfold—His Majesty, in the most gracious manner, came down the room to encourage me. And as I remained with my head bent down, he told me to stand up, and look at him.

‘I have seen thee before, young man, he said; ‘thy form is not one to be forgotten. Where was it? Thou art most likely to know.’

‘May it please Your Most Gracious Majesty the King,’ I answered, finding my voice in a manner which surprised myself; ‘it was in the Royal Chapel.’

Now I meant no harm whatever by this. I ought to have said the ‘Ante-chapel,’ but I could not remember the word, and feared to keep the King looking at me.

‘I am well-pleased,’ said His Majesty, with a smile which almost made his dark and stubborn face look pleasant, ‘to find that our greatest subject, greatest I mean in the bodily form, is also a good Catholic. Thou needest not say otherwise. The time shall be, and that right soon, when men shall be proud of the one true faith.’ Here he stopped, having gone rather far! but the gleam of his heavy eyes was such that I durst not contradict.

‘This is that great Johann Reed,’ said Her Majesty, coming forward, because the King was in meditation; ‘for whom I have so much heard, from the dear, dear Lorna. Ah, she is not of this black countree, she is of the breet Italie.’

I have tried to write it, as she said it: but it wants a better scholar to express her mode of speech.

‘Now, John Ridd,’ said the King, recovering from his thoughts about the true Church, and thinking that his wife was not to take the lead upon me; ‘thou hast done great service to the realm, and to religion. It was good to save Earl Brandir, a loyal and Catholic nobleman; but it was great service to catch two of the vilest bloodhounds ever laid on by heretics. And to make them shoot one another: it was rare; it was rare, my lad. Now ask us anything in reason; thou canst carry any honours, on thy club, like Hercules. What is thy chief ambition, lad?’

‘Well,’ said I, after thinking a little, and meaning to make the most of it, for so the Queen’s eyes conveyed to me; ‘my mother always used to think that having been schooled at Tiverton, with thirty marks a year to pay, I was worthy of a coat of arms. And that is what she longs for.’

‘A good lad! A very good lad,’ said the King, and he looked at the Queen, as if almost in joke; ‘but what is thy condition in life?’

‘I am a freeholder,’ I answered, in my confusion, ‘ever since the time of King Alfred. A Ridd was with him in the isle of Athelney, and we hold our farm by gift from him; or at least people say so. We have had three very good harvests running, and might support a coat of arms; but for myself I want it not.’

‘Thou shalt have a coat, my lad,’ said the King, smiling at his own humour; ‘but it must be a large one to fit thee. And more than that shalt thou have, John Ridd, being of such loyal breed, and having done such service.’

And while I wondered what he meant, he called to some of the people in waiting at the farther end of the room, and they brought him a little sword, such as Annie would skewer a turkey with. Then he signified to me to kneel, which I did (after dusting the board, for the sake of my best breeches), and then he gave me a little tap very nicely upon my shoulder, before I knew what he was up to; and said, ‘Arise, Sir John Ridd!’

This astonished and amazed me to such extent of loss of mind, that when I got up I looked about, and thought what the Snowes would think of it. And I said to the King, without forms of speech,—