rs he spent in bitter reviling of Wilding, of
himself, and even of his sister, whom he blamed for this awful situation
into which he had tumbled; at other times he wept from self-pity and
sheer fright.

Once, indeed, he imagined that he saw light, that he saw a way out
of the peril that hemmed him in. His mind turned for a moment in the
direction that Trenchard had feared it might. He bethought him of his
association with the Monmouth Cause--into which he had been beguiled by
the sordid hope of gain--and of Wilding's important share in that same
business. He was even moved to rise and ride that very night for Exeter
to betray to Albemarle the Cause itself, so that he might have Wilding
laid by the heels. But if Trenchard had been right in having little
faith in Richard's loyalty, he had, it seems, in fearing treachery
made the mistake of giving Richard credit for more courage than was his
endowment. For when, sitting up in bed, fired by his inspiration, young
Westmacott came to consider the questions the Lord-Lieutenant of Devon
would be likely to ask him, he reflected that the answers he must return
would so incriminate himself that he would be risking his own neck in
the betrayal. He flung himself down again with a curse and a groan, and
thought no more of the salvation that might lie for him that way.

The morning of that last day of May found him pale and limp and all
a-tremble. He rose betimes and dressed, but stirred not from his chamber
till in the garden under his window he heard his sister's voice, and
that of Diana Horton, joined anon by a man's deeper tones, which he
recognized with a start as Blake's. What did the baronet here so
early? Assuredly it must concern the impending duel. Richard knew no
mawkishness on the score of eavesdropping. He stole to his window and
lent an ear, but the voices were receding, and to his vexation he caught
nothing of what was said. He wondered how soon Vallancey would come, and
for what hour the encounter had been appointed. Vallancey had remained
behind at Scoresby Hall last night to make the necessary arrangements
with Trenchard, who was to act for Mr. Wilding.

Now it chanced that Trenchard and Wilding had business--business of
Monmouth's--to transact in Taunton that morning; business which might
not be delayed. There were odd rumours afloat in the West; persistent
rumours which had come fast upon the heels of the news of Argyle's
landing in Scotland; rumours which mainta