g Buckingham near this place--the Duke's head fell upon
the block, and Richard was rid of one more great enemy.

Still did not Richmond land; so Richard and his army returned to London.

When Catesby, who had been with Richard in this expedition, came again
to the Palace it did cause Harleston great anxiety; for he feared for
the safety of the Lady Hazel. However, Catesby, to my friend's
surprise, went not near the Sanctuary.

This was but the deceiving prologue to another history of suffering and
reverses to us, that ever seemed bent on rending us asunder, whose
hearts were bound together with such mighty bonds of love.

One evening as Frederick returned from a visit to the Sanctuary--where
he had learned that Richmond had at last landed in Wales, and was even
now on his way to London--on entering his room Michael handed him a
sealed packet which proved to be an order for him to be prepared to
march, at sunrise, in the ranks of Richard's army. This, however, was
no surprise, as he had been expecting it for more than a week. He
walked over to the table and laid the letter upon it.

"What is this, Michael?" he called, as his eyes fell upon another well
sealed packet.

Michael, however, knew not from whence it came or how it got there.

"Michael," said Frederick, "thou knowest that I desire no one to be
permitted to enter this room during mine absence. How is it,
therefore, that this letter found its way here without thy knowledge?"

"Sure, yer honour, it must have bin thare afore ye lift, sor; fer Oi
was out o' the room but fer a few minutes, and thin Oi made fast the
door behind me, and took the kay along with me, sor. Divil a soul
could inter, sor, barrin' that they came through the kay-houle."

"Strange," said Harleston, as he commenced to read the lengthy letter.
But stranger still he thought it ere he had finished its contents. It
was writ in a labored hand, as though to avoid recognition, and read as
follows:--

"To SIR FREDERICK HARLESTON, _Greeting_.

"The writer of these words, though--for reasons that he is not at
liberty to state--he signs not his name, is well known to thee, and to
thine unfortunate friend, Sir Walter Bradley; both of which he loveth
well.

"To-morrow Sir Walter is to go through a form of trial--the result of
which must be his conviction--and he shall immediately be taken unto
Tower Hill, where his head shall be stricken from the trunk. Unless,
ere to-morrow's dawn, he,