logical sequel to his escapade. Well, if it must be so, she preferred to
see him on the scaffold rather than in the arms of another. She would
wait until all was over, and then find in America solace for her
disappointment. She had played her cards well. The King was madly in
love with her, and she had no fear of his sailing away without her. If
so, there was Jawkins still. She had lulled the manager into such a
feeling of security that he had run up to Scotland to undertake an
important contract. An American billionaire, having rented the Trossachs
for the season, had engaged him to superintend his arrangements. Titled
people were at a premium since the discovery of the conspiracy, and
Jawkins could command his own prices. His reply to this patron, "I will
provide you with a pair of peers if I have to filch them from prison,
but they come high," was illustrative alike of the energy and the
business sagacity of the man. The poor old Archbishop of Canterbury, who
had escaped from Aldershot scot free, was being hurried from one corner
of England to the other to supply dinner requirements. Jawkins had
caused her some trouble at first, it is true. Upon the receipt of her
telegram at Ripon House he had hurried up to London, and ferreting out
her lodgings accused her of wishing to give him the slip. She had
assuaged his feelings by lunching with him at a public restaurant and
permitting him to engage their passages to America for a fortnight
later. Had it not been for the King's arrival she would have kept faith
with him.

The trial of the prisoners was set down for one week after their
consignment to the Tower. It was to take place in the House of
Parliament, and the indictment against all was for high treason. The
attorney-general, James McPherson, was to conduct the case for the
government, and the accused retained the services of Calhoun Benjamin, a
great-grandson of the Benjamin for some time a famous lawyer in the
reign of Victoria. It was not permissible for any member of either house
to appear as counsel. The constitution required that the joint bodies
should adjudge the cause. Still, after the formal arguments any member
was at liberty to rise to a question of privilege and address the
assembly. Such was indeed the usual custom.

Mary Lincoln doubtless had this in mind when she whispered to her father
the evening before the trial, "You will speak for him, will you not,
father?"

"I cannot tell," said Richard Lin