'Sherry,' he cried, 'for God's sake tell me what to do.'

Sheridan looked at him steadily. It was clear that he was worried. It was no use calling on his Irish charm, his witty flattery now; this was a matter of a stark Yes or No.

'I can only hope,' he said, 'that it is possible to deny the marriage, for if it were not I think Your Highness would be in a very perilous position indeed.'

The Prince could not look into Sheridan's eyes. He despised himself. He had sworn that he would stand by Maria; that they would go abroad and live if necessary; he would do anything tor her. But the Crown! How glittering it seemed at that moment. He saw a picture of himself going from one European country to another—a private gentleman, an outcast in a way, stripped of the glitter of royalty. Who would pay his debts then? And how was it possible for one brought up as he had been, one who had known from his nursery days that he would be King of England, to give up all that he had looked on as his right?

As for Maria ... he loved Maria; he would always love Maria. He thought of her as his wife and to all intents and purposes she was his wife. Surely that was enough? Maria herself, he told himself triumphantly, would not wish him to make the sacrifice. That was the answer. Maria would be most unhappy if he admitted to the marriage.

Yet he could not deny her completely.

'Sherry,' he said, 'how would it be possible for me to marry Maria? The Marriage Act makes it illegal.'

Sherry was relieved. He had made the right answer. Sherry was as ready to prevaricate as the Prince himself. They would not discuss the fact that a marriage could be a true marriage in the eyes of the Church if not in those of the State and that any marriage which the Church considered a true one, was a marriage.

But no, this was easy. They must glide safely over the facts. There was so much at stake.

'Sherry,' said the Prince, 'Maria must be warned.'

Sheridan agreed that this must be so.

'You are my very good friend. You have a way with words. Haven't we always said so? You, my dear Sherry, will be able to explain.'

Sheridan was uneasy; but he saw the point. Fox would have to be warned; and from now on Fox would have to take over in the House. But Maria Fitzherbert disliked Fox and he Sheridan, was the one who must set about placating her.

A delicate task, but since the Prince insisted, he must do his best.

He went at once to Maria's house and told her that he had something of the utmost importance to say to her. He then explained what had happened in the House and how through the actions of Rolle and Pitt the question of her marriage to the Prince of Wales would be raised.

Maria was alarmed. She had sworn to the Prince that she would tell no one of the ceremony which had taken place; so she could not explain the truth to Sheridan.

'We all know that you are virtuous,' said Sheridan, 'and the Prince has shown by his conduct that he regards you as his wife. But it is, of course, of the utmost importance that no ceremony should have taken place ... no ceremony with a priest that is. There was a ceremony we know when the Prince attempted his life and he put a ring on your finger ... such a ceremony while full of significance to yourself and the Prince is not one which the country would frown on ...'

I'm getting involved, thought Sheridan. How difficult it is to meander round and round the point in order to avoid it!

'Sherry,' she said, 'I feel like a dog with a log tied round its neck.'

'Maria, I would do anything in the world to protect you. But if it were admitted that a ceremony has taken place I should fear the consequences to His Highness.'

She was silent. She thought of the ceremony, the solemn

words she had spoken, the vows she had taken. To her it was a true marriage—and she had believed it was so to the Prince. She trusted in him; he had sworn so often to stand by her, to face his father and the whole country for her sake. Why then should he be afraid of Mr. Pitt and the House of Commons? But of course he was not afraid. She believed that when he was called upon to answer that question he would tell them that she was indeed his wife; that they had made their vows before a priest; that the marriage ceremony had been performed.

Sheridan was looking at her expectantly. But she would not tell him. She had sworn herself to secrecy; she could not betray Robert Burt and let him be submitted to the results of praemunire. It was for the Prince to stand up and make the avowal; it was for him to protect them all.

And he will, she thought. Of course he will.

'I am sure,' she told Sheridan, 'that the Prince will know how to act.'

Fox listened to Sheridan's account of what had taken place. He heard of the interview with Maria.

'She did not say there was a ceremony?'

'She did not,' replied Sheridan. 'I believe the Prince has made her swear to secrecy.'

Fox was thoughtful. 'No doubt she is thinking of the ceremony with the ring at the time of the false suicide. That is what it must be. A hundred curses on this man Rolle and a thousand more on Pitt. But never fear, I shall know how to deal with this.'

'I thought you would,' said Sheridan. 'I wish to God you'd been in the House on the 27th.'

'I couldn't have done anything more than you did, if I had.'

'It's that devil Pitt.'

'Yes, it is often that devil Pitt. Cheer up, Sherry. You'll see the Fox at work. I always liked a fight; and believe me there's no one I'd rather have for my opponent than clever Mr. Pitt.'

'Are you seeing the Prince?'

'No. I have what I need.'

Fox was smiling slyly. Had there been a marriage ceremony?

That was not exactly the point as he saw it. What he believed was that there had to be a denial of the ceremony. That was imperative or the succession would be imperilled. A fine thing alter all the work he had done in bringing up the Prince to support the Whigs if Pitt attempted to divert the succession to the Duke of York, which he might well do if it were disclosed that the Prince of Wales had married a Catholic—for that was exactly what Fox would have done in Pitt's place.

The denial—a categorical denial was necessary, and he was going to make it. He had every reason to make it because he had in his possession a letter from the Prince of Wales dated 11th December 1785 in which His Highness most definitely stated that he had no intention of marrying Mrs. Fitzherbert. And as that letter had been written only a few days before the Prince and Mrs. Fitzherbert had quite clearly become lovers, that was all he needed for his case.

Alderman Ncwnham had announced that he would bring forward his motion concerning the debts of the Prince of Wales on April 30th; and that day saw a crowded House of Commons.

Fox was in his place and with him Sheridan; and there was an air of excitement as members waited for the expected duel between those two great politicians: Pitt and Fox; and more than anything for the revelation which must inevitably be made.

Alderman Newnham rose and began: 'On Friday last much personal application was made to me from various quarters of the House to press mc to forgo my purpose, and much has been said of the dangerous consequences which might result from the discussion of such a subject. One gentleman has gone so far as to contend that it would draw on questions affecting Church and State ...'

Members leaned forward in their seats; eyes were turned towards Fox and Sheridan; and when Newnham had finished speaking Fox was immediately on his feet.

Fox began by asking the House's indulgence for his absence on the previous Friday. He had not heard, he said, that a

subject of so much delicacy and importance was to be alluded to.

'I should like the House to understand,' he went on, 'that I speak from the immediate authority of the Prince of Wales when I assure the House that there is no part of His Highness's conduct that he is afraid or unwilling to have investigated.'