box, touchwood, and Winter's watch--things
which were to bear heavy evidence against the prisoner.

In the hall of Parliament all was confusion; Elinor, guarded by
Effingston, still lay dead before the throne, and the ministers were
gathered about it.

The tumult ceased as Fawkes was led through the doorway. He was to
meet the King whom he would have slain, yet he advanced with uplifted
head, not a muscle quivering. The peers made way for him, so that a
space was cleared before the throne. Suddenly his eyes fell upon
Effingston; for an instant he paused, then following the gaze of the
grief-stricken nobleman, saw her who lay upon the floor. A mist
gathered before his eyes; a blinding flash of unreal but fierce
accusing light seared his brain and turned him into stone.
Horror-stricken he advanced, scarce conscious that he moved, until he
stood before the body of his daughter upon whose breast showed the red
wound made by the knife. The King, Salisbury, and the ministers had
turned and were looking fixedly upon him, but Fawkes was unconscious
of their gaze. He saw only the white face, the half-closed eyes, the
cold lips which had kissed his own so fondly and called him "father."

As the flashing of a great light coming out of the darkness, the truth
gleamed in its red horror upon him--the reason of the presence of
another in the cellar, the drops of blood along the pavement. She had
sought to save him from the crime of murder--and he had killed her!

He would have cried out and thrown himself upon his knees beside the
dead, but his iron will controlled the impulse, and the hands of the
guard upon his shoulder held him firm. What cared he for axe or gibbet
now? He had loved her next to his religion, and had slain her. The
King was speaking:

"Ah!" said he, "what have we here, brave gentlemen? Doth tremble so at
the sight of one dead girl? Who art thou, fellow?"

Fawkes replied nothing, nor, perchance, heard the voice of James; his
thoughts were in Spain, where, when a child, Elinor had climbed upon
his knee.

"Faith!" cried the King, "hast caught a dumb man, good Master
Doubleday? or hath the decoration of the garter so overcome his senses
that he is in a maze?"

Some of the gentlemen about the throne smiled, for James loved a jest;
but Effingston turned away and pressed his father's hand.

"Come!" cried the King, impatiently; "wilt not find thy tongue? 'tis
not my custom to speak a second time. What didst thou