onel Evellin was roused from these agreeable reveries by a painful
communication from Williams. The means of access which the royalists now
had to Cromwell's councils enabled them to discover that the vigilance
of Morgan had brought together so many charges against Dr. Beaumont,
that there seeming no chance of his escaping condemnation, it was
resolved to bring him to trial. Williams could not distinctly make out
the crimes with which he was charged, except that he assisted the late
and present King with money; that he used the Liturgy and Church
ceremonies with such slight alterations as did not prevent their
continuing to be that "form of words" and "will-worship" which were
forbidden to saints; added to this, he prayed for Charles Stewart; and
further, there were secret counsels and mysterious contrivances in the
family. A private chamber had also been found, which, it was evident,
had been used for the purpose of concealing malignants. The safety of
the state required that these practices should be searched into, and
that Dr. Beaumont should be tried for contumacy to the government.

This was all Williams could discover; but beside this open attack, there
was a mine ready to be sprung for the Doctor's destruction. Lord
Bellingham had now lain several years in confinement. His party was
believed to be subdued, and his own reputation was so tarnished that he
was become quite innoxious. Overtures were now made to him, that he
should be restored to liberty, and to a part of his possessions; but it
was hinted at the same time that it would show his acquiescence with the
existing government if he would take an active part against an atrocious
royalist. The sudden and mysterious disappearance of his son (of whom he
had heard no tidings since the battle of Preston) was mentioned; and it
was soon understood that it was expected he should bring the charge of
assassination against Dr. Beaumont, and thus remove all odium from
Cromwell. Solitude and confinement had wrought no salutary change on
this wretched man's disposition. His prison-hours were occupied by
regrets for the past, distaste at the present, and fears for the future.
His affections clung fondly to the wealth and title he had lost; nor
could his guilty soul disrobe itself "of those lendings" which vitiated
its spiritual essence. If he were again placed in Bellingham-Castle he
would repent. He would then devote a large proportion of his
dearly-purchased estate to cha