I laid her on the bed, and after I had talked a few minutes with Pickering, explaining to him the events of the night, and telling him of Betty's glorious part in our success, I went downstairs to wait in the tap-room for George and the surgeon.
Presently they came, and George and I followed the surgeon to Betty's door, where we waited in the hallway outside to hear his report.
Presently Frances came out to tell us that Betty's injuries were no greater than a few sprains and bruises, and that the surgeon said she would be well in a few days.
I could have shouted for joy on hearing the news, but restrained myself, and suggested to Frances that she go at once to her father's house and that I go to Whitehall to be there before its awakening.
If I learned that the king had been absent during the night, I should know with reasonable certainty that he had been privy to the outrage perpetrated on Frances.

If he has been at the palace all night, he might be innocent of the crime.
"In neither case will I return to Whitehall," declared Frances, indignantly, when I spoke of the possibility of the king's innocence.
"But you must," I replied insistently.

"We must say nothing of your terrible experience.

Publicity of this sort ruins a woman's fair name, but the result in this case would be far more disastrous.

Fear will drive the king to further acts of villainy to protect himself if he learns that we suspect him, and your life and mine, as well as George's, may be in peril.