When I reached George's room, I found Betty at her post. The
physician had given Hamilton a quieting potion, and he was resting,
though at intervals he broke out, shouting his intention to kill the
king.
During nearly two weeks Hamilton lay moaning and raving, sweet, dear
Betty rarely leaving his side for more than a few minutes at a time. I,
too, clung to my post faithfully, but at least a part of my motive in
doing so was selfish, being the joy I found in Betty's company. At the
end of two weeks George began to recover rapidly, and I was dismissed
along with the physician.
When I returned to Whitehall, I found that my Lord Sandwich, under whom
I held my place as Second Gentleman of the Wardrobe, had been seeking me.
The king had gone to Sheerness on business of the navy two weeks before,
and the Earl of Sandwich, being at that time Lord Admiral, was to go down
the river on a summons from his Majesty. Much against my will, I was
compelled to go with him, and, by reason of this enforced absence, was
away from London during the next month or two, when I very much wished to
be there.
I saw Frances only twice during George's illness, and as she made no
inquiries about him, I concluded that sober thought had brought back her
old aversion. Therefore I did not mention his name nor try to correct her
error, feeling that it was better for her to remain in her present state
of mind.
I was convinced that Hamilton's threats against the life of the king were
but the ravings of a frenzied brain, and that he had no intention of
killing Charles, but I also felt sure that trouble would come of it,
since he had been overheard by several persons.
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