was lying concealed in the house of a loyal
widow, at Hele, in Wiltshire, set out on his
perilous journey, and, in about two days, not
without many escapes from the Cromwellian
soldiers, arrived at the George, now the King's
Head, in West-street, Brighton. The supper
party consisted of Charles himself, Lord Wilmot
(father of the wit and profligate, Lord Rochester),
Colonel Gunter, Mr. Mansel, and Captain Tetershal,
the master of the vessel. We can readily
picture to ourselves the gay and rollicking
manner of the young prince, even at that time of
doubt and danger; but for a moment things
looked rather serious. Tetershal, rising suddenly
from supper, called Mansel aside, and
expostulated with him for deceiving him, as he
had discovered that the person he was to take
over to France was not a mere private individual,
as had been put forth, but was no other
than the royal fugitive, Charles Stuart. He had
seen him on a previous occasion, and now
recognised him through his disguise of a servant.
In this perplexity, Mansel spoke to the prince,
who plied the captain with promises, and gave
him a large sum of money out of hand. The
master thereupon promised fidelity, and
immediately departed to knock up his men, who were
then asleep in the little village. The vessel
was lying at Shoreham, half-filled with coals;
and Tetershal bade his men make all haste to
her, for that having slipped her anchors she
was adrift, and might be stranded or dashed
upon the rocks. He then directed his wife to go
and buy a bottle of brandy and another of sack,
and to give him clean clothes to take with him
on his voyage. The woman objected to going
forth so late at night, and asked whether the
morning would not do as well? But the captain
so peremptorily overruled this suggestion, that
the wife, with feminine quickness of wit, saw
that it was "the king" who was about to be
carried over to France, and plainly told her
husband so, adding, "I pray God you may carry him
safe, though I and my small children should for
ever after go a-begging"—a speech which one
can only describe as a perplexing mixture of
generosity and flunkeyism. It was a great deal better,
however, than the speech made by the landlord of
the George Inn, who, having by this time got
drunk in the congenial society of his royal guest,
kissed the prince's hand, and said, very lyingly,
"Who you are, whence you come, or whither
you are going, I know not; yet I pray God he
may bless and preserve you. If I guess right, I
shall be an earl, and my wife a countess." No
thought on his part of sacrificing either himself
or his children. Charles's reply is not recorded
(neither is the landlord's earldom); and he
presently after set out for the vessel, and at five
o'clock in the morning, on the 15th of October,
1651, the prince and his companions went on
board, and were ultimately landed at Fécamp, in
Normandy.

But the most interesting historical associations
in connexion with the Downs gather
about the picturesque old town of Lewes. These,
however, are so numerous as to require special
handling next week.

THE DUCHESS VERONICA.
IN EIGHT CHAPTERS.

CHAPTER VI. ANOTHER EVENING IN CASA
CANACCI.

THE letter which Pippo Carrarrese carried to
Massa ran as follows:

Most excellent Prince and dear Brother,—This
letter will be delivered into your honoured hands by
our faithful Pippo, whose trustiness is known to you.
Of myself and of things here I have little that is
good or agreeable to tell you. Foul and dishonourable
wrong has been done me. And it is not to a
prince of our name and blood that it is necessary to
tell the care which is now occupying me. I might
enter into the particulars of that which is on my
heart, sure of your sympathy, support, and assistance.
But, under the circumstances, I think it best
to do what has to be done, alone. You may be quite
sure that the honour of our family is safe in my
keeping, and that I know how to vindicate it. The
purport of the present, therefore, is to request you,
my brother, to send back with Pippo, under his
guidance and orders, three trusty men—let them be
men, you understand me—devoted to our family.
Let them be well mounted to ride at need—men
with ready hands and silent tongues. For the
present there needs no more to be said. May God
have you in his holy keeping, my brother.

Your loving and dutiful sister,

VERONICA.

The result of this letter was, that on a dark
evening, towards the latter end of December,
Pippo, accompanied by three other well-mounted
but unarmed men of his own class and sort,
presented themselves at the Prato gate of
Florence. The gate had been already some time
closed. But on the strangers making themselves
known as servants of the duchessa, they were
readily allowed to enter the city. Pippo
conducted his men to a small hostelry, situated in
one of the narrow streets behind the Palazzo
Vecchio, in the immediate neighbourhood of the
Mercato Vecchio—which was kept by a Massa
man, and was accordingly well known to the
Villa Salviati people, and frequented by all the
Massa and Carrara folks, whom the connexion of
the duchess with that country or any other
circumstance brought to Florence.

Having housed them, Pippo at once started for
the villa, to report his return to the duchess,
and receive her orders. They were, that for the
present he should only hold himself and the
three Massa men in readiness, supply them quietly
with arms from the villa, and caution them strictly
not to be seen in the city, to keep close in their
quarters during the day, and leave them, if at
all, only after nightfall.

These matters duly arranged, the duchess had
again to wait with such patience as she could
master, the further development of her designs.

The last day of the year is a day of note in
Catholic countries. Among men of every
persuasion, indeed, the close of one of the stages of