ea--no more than an idea--daunted me.
You have shown me that. I cross to England with you, Sir Richard, and
let my Lord Ostermore look to himself, for my name--I who have no right
to any name--my name is judgment!"

The exaltation fell from him as suddenly as it had mounted. He dropped
into a chair, thoughtful again and slightly ashamed of his sudden
outburst.

Sir Richard Everard watched with an eye of gloomy joy the man whom he
had been at such pains to school in self-control.

Overhead there was a sudden crackle of thunder, sharp and staccato as a
peal of demoniac laughter.

CHAPTER II. AT THE "ADAM AND EVE"

Mr. Caryll, alighted from his traveling chaise in the yard of the "Adam
and Eve," at Maidstone, on a sunny afternoon in May. Landed at Dover
the night before, he had parted company with Sir Richard Everard that
morning. His adoptive father had turned aside toward Rochester, to
discharge his king's business with plotting Bishop Atterbury, what time
Justin was to push on toward town as King James' ambassador to the Earl
of Ostermore, who, advised of his coming, was expecting him.

Here at Maidstone it was Mr. Caryll's intent to dine, resuming his
journey in the cool of the evening, when he hoped to get at least as far
as Farnborough ere he slept.

Landlady, chamberlain, ostler and a posse of underlings hastened to
give welcome to so fine a gentleman, and a private room above-stairs was
placed at his disposal. Before ascending, however, Mr. Caryll sauntered
into the bar for a whetting glass to give him an appetite, and further
for the purpose of bespeaking in detail his dinner with the hostess. It
was one of his traits that he gave the greatest attention to detail, and
held that the man who left the ordering of his edibles to his servants
was no better than an animal who saw no more than nourishment in food.
Nor was the matter one to be settled summarily; it asked thought and
time. So he sipped his Hock, listening to the landlady's proposals, and
amending them where necessary with suggestions of his own, and what time
he was so engaged, there ambled into the inn yard a sturdy cob bearing a
sturdy little man in snuff-colored clothes that had seen some wear.

The newcomer threw his reins to the stable-boy--a person of all the
importance necessary to receive so indifferent a guest. He got down
nimbly from his horse, produced an enormous handkerchief of many colors,
and removed his three-cornered hat t