spoken,--reject it if thou wilt in pride. Rue
thy folly thou wilt in shame!"

She drew her wimple round her face as she said these words, and,
gathering up her long robe, swept slowly on.

CHAPTER III. WHEREIN THE DEMAGOGUE SEEKS THE COURTIER.

On quitting Adam's chamber, Hilyard paused not till he reached a stately
house, not far from Warwick Lane, which was the residence of the Lord
Montagu.

That nobleman was employed in reading, or rather, in pondering over, two
letters, with which a courier from Calais had just arrived, the one
from the archbishop, the other from Warwick. In these epistles were
two passages, strangely contradictory in their counsel. A sentence in
Warwick's letter ran thus:--

"It hath reached me that certain disaffected men meditate a rising
against the king, under pretext of wrongs from the queen's kin. It is
even said that our kinsmen, Copiers and Fitzhugh, are engaged therein.
Need I caution thee to watch well that they bring our name into no
disgrace or attaint? We want no aid to right our own wrongs; and if the
misguided men rebel, Warwick will best punish Edward by proving that he
is yet of use."

On the other hand, thus wrote the prelate:--

"The king, wroth with my visit to Calais, has taken from me the
chancellor's seal. I humbly thank him, and shall sleep the lighter for
the fardel's loss. Now, mark me, Montagu: our kinsman, Lord Fitzhugh's
son, and young Henry Nevile, aided by old Sir John Copiers, meditate
a fierce and well-timed assault upon the Woodvilles. Do thou keep
neuter,--neither help nor frustrate it. Howsoever it end, it will answer
our views, and shake our enemies."

Montagu was yet musing over these tidings, and marvelling that he
in England should know less than his brethren in Calais of events so
important, when his page informed him that a stranger, with urgent
messages from the north country, craved an audience. Imagining that
these messages would tend to illustrate the communications just
received, he ordered the visitor to be admitted.

He scarcely noticed Hilyard on his entrance, and said abruptly, "Speak
shortly, friend,--I have but little leisure."

"And yet, Lord Montagu, my business may touch thee home."

Montagu, surprised, gazed more attentively on his visitor: "Surely, I
know thy face, friend,--we have met before."

"True; thou wert then on thy way to the More."

"I remember me; and thou then seemedst, from thy bold words, on a still
sho