aid at length, seeing Cuthbert's gaze fasten upon
him with inquiry and recognition, "so we meet again."

Cuthbert answered nothing. He did not intend to speak a needless
word. He had some inkling now of the motive for his capture, but he
was not going to show his hand.

"Cuthbert Trevlyn," said Tyrrel, in brief, terse sentences, "I have
not brought thee here to bandy words with thee; I will to the point
at once. I will tell thee why thou art here. Thou art in deadly
peril from without. There is a vile Popish plot but recently
discovered. The perpetrators and conspirators will all be seized
upon the morrow. Thou art held to be one of these. Thou wilt be
seized amongst others. Innocent or guilty, it matters not. Thou
wilt die the traitor's death--the hideous doom of those accused of
high treason. Thou wilt be lucky if thou art not racked first to
make thee confess what men hold (whether truly or falsely) that
thou knowest. I have interposed to save thee from that fate. I have
had thee pursued and brought hither to me. I can and I will save
thee and hide thee till all pursuit is over. But thou must purchase
my protection at a price."

Cuthbert listened as one in a dream. He knew that Tyrrel might be
speaking truth. He knew that he had received warnings before
telling him he was suspected and watched. He recalled many past
moments when he had felt that he had placed himself in a false
position and might have laid himself open to misconstruction. But
he had never thought himself in actual peril from the arm of the
law. Was Tyrrel speaking the truth now, or was he only striving to
intimidate him for his own ends?

Fixing his dark eyes full upon the face of the man opposite, he
asked:

"And what is that price?"

"The secret of the Trevlyn treasure," was the calm reply--"the
secret thou didst learn from Long Robin ere thou didst lay him in
his bloody grave, and which now thou holdest alone. Where is the
treasure, boy? Speak, and all will be well. For bethink thee, if
thou holdest thy peace I give thee up on the morrow to the
myrmidons of the law, and the golden secret will perish with thee,
none profiting thereby. Tell it but to me, and by that honour which
I have ever held sacred, thou shalt be released and placed in a
secure hiding place till all hue and cry be past. Speak, then, for
thy silence can aid none--least of all thyself. Tell the whole
story and guide us to the treasure, and all will be well."

Cuthbert s