zeal for the welfare of the State is most commendable, and the
King shall know of it, but thy spirit is overwrought with idle fear.
What if certain Catholics in England have sought audience with those
of their faith in Paris? Have we then fear of France? My word upon it,
good Monteagle, that calm thought will quell thy doubts. Of this
Thomas Winter I know something; a reminder of the luckless Essex, a
gentleman whose zeal doth warp his reason, and who, should he presume
too far, will feel the axe, I warrant. Thou sayest he is again in
England; perchance he builds a castle which the sight of a line of
soldiers will scatter to the winds. Again I thank thee for thy
counsel, my lord, nor will I neglect such matters as pertain to the
safety of the King. If it come to thee, that these dissatisfied
Catholics grow too bold in speech, for I fear not other signs of
treason, lay it before me, that I may stop their tongues, ere evil
thoughts be planted in the minds of them who cry 'amen' to any wind
of speech delivered in the market place."

Monteagle arose, for he perceived 'twas useless to speak further of
ill-defined plots and perchance groundless fears of treason against
the King.

"I but considered it my duty as an English gentleman to look to the
welfare of----" he began.

"Thou hast my confidence," interrupted Salisbury, "and though I seem
to treat lightly thy suspicions they will be most carefully heeded
should occasion arise. There be certain chambers in the Tower, where
those too zealous in their faith may pass the time in prayer, thanking
God the King is merciful, and stays the axe."

Monteagle bowed and left the room. "It may be," he muttered, "that my
mind doth dwell too much upon this matter, but I know Sir Thomas
Winter well, and there be certain of the Jesuits yet in England."

CHAPTER XVII.

SOWING THE WIND.

Late of an evening near to Michaelmas, three men applied for admission
at the door of a house close to the edge of the Thames, and which, by
reason of its surroundings, assured security from observation to those
who might choose to abide therein. Knocking upon the panel with the
hilt of a heavy rapier which he had drawn from its scabbard, the
shorter of the trio listened impatiently for the sounds which would
precede the drawing of the bolts within. His companions, who were in
the shadow of a neighboring wall, glanced about apprehensively.

"'Tis an ill-favored place, Sir Thomas," whispered