My adventures in the county of Stafford, whence I escaped with the daughter of my host on a pillion behind me, still fill the tales of the country firesides, and would furnish matter for ballads.

I will some day write all this, sire, for the instruction of my brother kings.
"I will first tell how, on arriving at the residence of Mr.Norton, I met with a court chaplain, who was looking on at a party playing at skittles, and an old servant who named me, bursting into tears, and who was as near and as certainly killing me by his fidelity as another might have been by treachery.

Then I will tell of my terrors--yes, sire, of my terrors--when, at the house of Colonel Windham, a farrier who came to shoe our horses declared they had been shod in the north." "How strange!" murmured Louis XIV.

"I never heard anything of all that; I was only told of your embarkation at Brighthelmstone and your landing in Normandy." "Oh!" exclaimed Charles, "if Heaven permits kings to be thus ignorant of the histories of each other, how can they render assistance to their brothers who need it ?" "But tell me," continued Louis XIV., "how, after being so roughly received in England, you can still hope for anything from that unhappy country and that rebellious people ?" "Oh, sire! since the battle of Worcester, everything is changed there.
Cromwell is dead, after having signed a treaty with France, in which his name is placed above yours.

He died on the 5th of September, 1658, a fresh anniversary of the battles of Dunbar and Worcester." "His son has succeeded him." "But certain men have a family, sire, and no heir.