At a table in the midst of this picturesque confusion, sat a man of middle age, whose thoughtful eyes and finely chiseled features still showed the beauty inherited from his mother, the luckless Queen of Hearts.  But the face, overshadowed by the heavy curls of a fashionable periwig, was worn and roughened by exposure and hardship, and the weary gloom that darkened the noble forehead and drooped the haughty lips marked the years of disappointment that had changed the fiery paladin of 1642 into the sad and cynical Rupert of the Restoration.