ottish royalty that were in question
I should see naught amiss, but with this English right that hath been
the bane of us all, what can their love bring the poor children save
woe?"

Meantime Humfrey was conducting his prisoner to Sir Amias Paulett. The
man was a bronzed, tough-looking ruffian, with an air of having seen
service, and a certain foreign touch in his accent. He glanced
somewhat contemptuously at his captor, and said; "Neatly done, sir; I
marvel if you'll get any thanks."

"What mean you?" said Humfrey sharply, but the fellow only shrugged his
shoulders. The whole affair had been so noiseless, that Humfrey
brought the first intelligence when he was admitted to the sick
chamber, where Sir Amias sat in a large chair by the fire. He had left
his prisoner guarded by two men at the door. "How now! What is it?"
cried Paulett at first sight of his bandaged hand. "Is she safe?"

"Even so, sir, and untouched," said Humfrey.

"Thanks be to God!" he exclaimed. "This is what I feared. Who was it?"

"One of the new men-at-arms from London--Peter Pierson he called
himself, and said he had served in the Netherlands."

And after a few further words of explanation, Humfrey called in the
prisoner and his guards, and before his face gave an account of his
attempt upon the helpless Queen.

"Godless and murderous villain!" said Paulett, "what hast thou to say
for thyself that I should not hang thee from the highest tower?"

"Naught that will hinder you, worshipful seignior," returned the man
with a sneer. "In sooth I see no great odds between taking life with a
dagger and with an axe, save that fewer folk are regaled with the
spectacle."

"Wretch," said Paulett, "wouldst thou confound private murder with the
open judgment of God and man?"

"Judgment hath been pronounced," said the fellow, "but it needs not to
dispute the matter. Only if this honest youth had not come blundering
in and cut his fingers in the fray, your captive would have been
quietly rid of all her troubles, and I should have had my reward from
certain great folk you wot of. Ay," as Sir Amias turned still
yellower, "you take my meaning, sir."

"Take him away," said Paulett, collecting himself; "he would cloak his
crime by accusing others of his desperate wickedness."

"Where, sir?" inquired Humfrey.

Sir Amias would have preferred hanging the fellow without inquiry, but
as Fotheringhay was not under martial law, he ordered him off to t