t these
plotters, perceiving that they were perhaps being overheard, sent him
away to fetch them wine. A half-hour later the messenger took his leave,
and the prisoners followed a very few minutes afterwards."

Albemarle turned to the prisoners. "You have heard Mr. Trenchard's
story. How do you say--is it true or untrue?"

"You will waste breath in denying it," Trenchard took it again upon
himself to admonish them. "For I have with me the landlord of the Hare
and Hounds, who will corroborate, upon oath, what I have said."

"We do not deny it," put in Blake. "But we submit that the matter is
susceptible to explanation."

"You can keep your explanations till your trial, then," snapped
Albemarle. "I have heard more than enough to commit the pair of you to
gaol."

"But, Your Grace," cried Sir Rowland, so fiercely that one of the
tything-men set a restraining hand upon his shoulder, "I am ready to
swear that what I did, and what my friend Mr. Westmacott did, was done
in the interests of His Majesty. We were working to discover this plot."

"Which, no doubt," put in Trenchard slyly, "is the reason why, having
got the letter, your friend Mr. Westmacott locked it in a desk, and you
kept silence on the matter."

"You see," exclaimed Albemarle, "how your lies do but serve further to
bind you in the toils. It is ever thus with traitors."

"I do think you are a damned traitor, Trenchard," began Blake; "a
foul..."

But what more he would have said was checked by Albemarle, who thundered
forth an order for their removal, and then, scarce were the words
uttered than the door at the far end of the hall was opened, and through
it came a sound of women's voices. Richard started, for one was the
voice of Ruth.

An usher advanced. "May it please Your Grace, there are two ladies here
beg that you will hear their evidence in the matter of Mr. Westmacott
and Sir Rowland Blake."

Albemarle considered a moment. Trenchard stood very thoughtful.

"Indeed," said the Duke, at last, "I have heard as much as I need hear,"
and Sir Phelips nodded in token of concurrence.

Not so, however, Colonel Luttrell. "Still," said he, "in the interests
of His Majesty, perhaps, we should be doing well to receive them."

Albemarle blew out his cheeks like a man wearied, and stared an instant
at Luttrell. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"Admit them, then," he commanded almost peevishly, and Ruth and Diana
were ushered into the hall. Both were pal