concluded, with a touch of haughtiness in his tone.

"I have not yet accused thee of bringing discredit upon our house, and
devoutly hope my fears are but absurd, born of that doubt which
seemeth to be resident in the minds of men one for the other. By my
troth, we can seldom point with certainty in these days to one of our
fellow creatures, and say truly, I know him to be good and free from
treason. It would, I swear," he continued, with a sigh, "little
surprise me, to hear the Archbishop of Canterbury had been seen to
hold his crosier for a pretty wench to leap across, that he might the
better gaze upon her ankles. Thou art a man grown; therefore, I can
but counsel. But this I know: love for one below thy station, though
she have all purity and moral excellence, seldom ends in marriage; if
by chance it doth bring thee to the altar, repentance with its dismal
train follows far too often, even ere the echo of the chimes hath died
away."

"Thy counsel did, and ever shall stand high in my regard," replied
Effingston. "But thy fears are groundless. I do admit that she to whom
thou dost refer is not of highest birth; still, her ancestors helped
to keep the crown upon a king's head, and methinks, deserve more
credit for acting thus without reward than though they bore the title
of a Duke or Prince. As thou hast asked, and with perfect justice, I
will tell the story from its beginning. Thou might misjudge if thy
mind held its present suspicion, and it would lead to setting aside of
confidences which, it hath been my happiness to feel, did ever exist
between us."

"Thou sayest well," replied the other, with affection. "I have always
looked upon thee as my sword arm, to carry out by thy young strength
the deeds which time hath left me ill conditioned to perform."

"Thou remembrest," began Effingston, "the night three months since, I
rode to Chartsey Manor, with intent to sound Lord Cecil regarding his
attitude on issues then before Parliament. It was midnight ere I left,
and well on toward the stroke of two when I arrived in the outskirts
of London. Proceeding slowly on my way, drinking in deeply the
beauties of the night, suddenly there sounded upon my startled ear a
woman's scream, which quickly ceased, as if she who uttered it had
been rudely seized about the throat. I reined up my horse and
listened. Distinctly could I hear, not two hundred paces from me, the
sound of scuffling feet and an outburst of drunken laughter