At which the Prince embraced him and said that never never would he forget his very good friend.

At the house in Park Street the Prince of Wales met Walter and John Smythe and Henry Errington. Dressed soberly by his standards in a green coat of the finest cloth and white leather breeches he looked quietly elegant; but the diamond star on his left breast and the diamond buckles on his shoes made it impossible to mistake him for any but the Prince of Wales.

He greeted the men with a warm friendliness which implied that this was for him a very solemn occasion. His emotions— superficial as they often were—were constantly displayed for everyone to sec. Tears would fill his eyes when he spoke of friendship and at the sentimental words of a ballad. It was one of the reasons why he drew people to him; he made them feel in the short time he was with them that they were of importance to him.

Henry Errington had come with some misgivings. Seeing himself as a guardian of the family since his brother-in-law was incapacitated he felt it was for him to look after Maria's interest and he was a man of the world enough to know that a marriage with the Prince of Wales could not be recognized by the State because of the Royal Marriage Act.

Tray be seated,' said the Prince. 'I am delighted to make the acquaintance of my dearest Maria's family. I want to explain this situation to you for it will grieve me deeply if I cannot dismiss your concerns ... which, believe me, I fully understand.'

He crossed his legs gracefully; John Smythe's eyes were dazzled by the diamond shoe buckles but more so by the easy manners of the Prince. He kept telling himself that this glittering personality was proposing to become his brother-in-law. His sister Maria was the most talked of woman in England;

and when the Prince of Wales spoke of her there were tears in his eyes.

She was, the Prince went on to say, all that he asked in life. He would willingly give up the crown for her sake; this marriage that was about to take place would be in the eyes of the Church a true marriage. He, who respected Maria as he could no one else on Earth, was determined on this. He was in an unfortunate position. He spread his hands deprecatingly—very white hands adorned by a few fine diamonds—and the star on his breast flashed as though in defiance of this statement. But he was going to marry Mr. Errington's niece, Walter and John Smythe's sister. If he could make her the Queen of England that would be the greatest joy of his life. Who knew ... When he became King he would instantly repeal the Marriage Act. What he wished to impress on his dearest Maria's family was that his intentions were entirely honourable. He respected Maria as a pure good woman and he was going to see that everyone else did the same.

John stammered that this was a great honour to their family; and he trusted that Maria would be worthy of such a Prince.

John was won over; Walter quickly followed. The uncle was not quite so ready; so the Prince turned his attention to him.

He need have no fear, he assured him. He understood of course, his misgivings. He himself would have had them in similar circumstances; but if he would but trust him ... 'well, I shall be your nephew by marriage, shall I not? ... If you will but trust me, you will not be disappointed in it. I promise you.'

How could Henry Errington hold out against such charm? How could he—a humble country gentleman—resist the honour of becoming uncle to the Prince of Wales?

'I see/ he said, catching the Prince's emotion, 'that my niece must be a very happy woman to have inspired such ... such disinterested devotion.'

The Prince was all smiles. That battle was won.

'I shall expect you at the ceremony,' he said. 'Uncle Henry, you must give the bride away.'

He rose, thus dismissing them. He was eager to be back with Maria.

When he left the Prince the Reverend Johnes Knight walked through the streets of London deep in thought.

What had he done? He had promised to perform a marriage between the Prince of Wales and Maria Fitzherbert, an act which he knew to be illegal. Moreover, he had given his word to Colonel Lake, who had suspected rightly that this was the reason why he had been summoned to Carlton House, that he would have nothing to do with the affair.

Not only had he committed himself to an illegal act but he had lied to a friend.

As far as performing the ceremony was concerned he would not have been so worried. After all, this was the Prince of Wales who could at any time be the King. He did not believe he would come to much harm through the act. But what had Colonel Lake said to him? Had he not asked him if he would do such a thing, and had he not given him his word that he would not?

If only the Prince of Wales had received him when he had arranged to. If only he had not gone into the Mount Coffee House he would not have given his word to Colonel Lake.

But he had and he had given his word and he would be not only a clergyman who had failed in his duty—but a liar into the bargain.

Moreover, why should Colonel Lake have been so insistent? He was one of the true friends of the Prince of Wales. It would only have been because he knew that the marriage could bring harm to the Prince that he was so much against it.

'I cannot do it,' he said.

Back at Stratford Place the Reverend Johnes Knight sat down to write a letter to the Prince of Wales.

It was difficult, but he knew he had to do it.

He took up his pen and began. He was a devoted servant of the Prince's, he explained. He wished to please him. He would have sustained any loss that might have been his; he would have suffered any punishment that he might have incurred by breaking the law; all this he was ready to do for the Prince's sake. But before his interview with the Prince he had given his F*

word to a friend that he would not perform the marriage ceremony and this promise had—because of the Prince's eloquence—slipped out of his mind. He was in a most unhappy state, but he could only crave His Highness's pardon while being sure he would understand the position in which his humble servant found himself.

After having written and despatched the letter, Knight waited the answer with trepidation.

It was not long in coming. The Prince's reply was kind; he did not reproach Knight but commanded him to present himself at the house of Colonel Gardner which was in Queen Street.

Colonel Gardner was waiting for him on his arrival. He received the clergyman coolly and remarked that it was regretful he had not recalled his promise to a friend before the Prince had told him of his intentions.

'I admit it,' said Knight. 4 I cannot tell you how deeply I regret my conduct.'

The Prince arrived and was cordial though disappointed. He did not believe that it would be impossible to find a clergyman who would comply with his wishes, although the first two had defaulted.

'I should like to know,' said the Prince, 'who this friend is who extracted this promise from you.'

Tour Highness, I could not tell even you that and I beg of you not to ask me.'

'It was Lord North, I'll swear. You were at his house when I sent for you.'

'Sir, I do assure you that it is not Lord North.'

'Well,' said the Prince, 'you have shown us that you are a man to respect a promise. Now I shall ask one of you. I want you not to speak to anyone of what has passed between us and to destroy any correspondence concerning this matter.'

'Your Highness,' cried Knight fervently, 'I give you my word.'

'I accept your word,' replied the Prince.

It was dismissal, and thankfully the Reverend Johnes Knight came out into the cold December air.

When he had gone the Prince turned mournfully to Colonel Gardner.

So,' he said, 'we are still without our officiating clergyman.'