He opened his eyes — the richly clad First Lord of the Bedchamber was kneeling by his couch. The gladness of the lying dream faded away — the poor boy recognised that he was still a captive and a king. The room was filled with courtiers clothed in purple mantles — the mourning colour — and with noble servants of the monarch. Tom sat up in bed and gazed out from the heavy silken curtains upon this fine company.

The weighty business of dressing began, and one courtier after another knelt and paid his court and offered to the little King his condolences upon his heavy loss, whilst the dressing proceeded. In the beginning, a shirt was taken up by the Chief Equerry in Waiting, who passed it to the First Lord of the Buckhounds, who passed it to the Second Gentleman of the Bedchamber, who passed it to the