“By God, Buckingham, this is despicable!  She to be made the tool of her religion!”

“There are other complications, my lord.  Providing thou art successful in running the gauntlet with Monmouth first, then the King, thou, thyself, art in danger of the Tower or Tyburn-tree.”  With a bound Cedric was upon his feet and sprang toward the Duke,—­

“A thousand devils, man, I care not for myself,—­’tis the maid; beside—­what have I done, why am I so threatened?”

“The scheme for thy destruction is already set a-foot.  If thou shouldst get the maid in any wise, it appears thou art doomed.  Take my advice, look to thyself and let the—­”

“’Sdeath! finish it not!” and there was that in the young lord’s eyes that curtailed the Duke’s words, and he stood frowning at Cedric and thinking what next to say.

“When thou art acquainted with the circumstances, my lord, thou wilt see thy peril.  One Christopher, whom I once befriended with a bottle of wine in a certain close passage, came tottering to me, asking for my patronage, which I accorded him, as he was a sorry spectacle.  As a reward for my seeming kindness, he told me that the knave Cantemir was arousing the Protestants by speaking of the monastery being a rendezvous for all good Catholics, naming the lord of Crandlemar as one of them.  The knave is working with both factions.  He has gained some powerful help.  These are to come upon the King and demand a confiscation of thy lands, thou art also to be sent to Tower or Tyburn-tree for the murder of thy servant—­”

“Enough, enough, my heaven!  I did kill the bastard Christopher.”

“Ah! not so.  ‘The bastard Christopher’ is still on his legs and gives Cantemir’s plans away; for the knave kicked him when he was down.  Thou art to have thy head, but—­”

“Nay, my friend, tell me no more.  Ah!—­is there any limit to this devil’s industry!  I have to thank thee to-night, on the morrow—­”

“I’m expecting to leave Whitehall early—­” Cedric started.

“Will Monmouth bear thee company?”

“Nay, his Majesty seems on a sudden to have an undue fondness for him.”

“God strengthen it.”

“’Tis a pity there is such thing, else his Grace would not care to go.”

“And thou and I might not have been brought into this world.”

“And Adam have had eyes only for the serpent, not even coveting the apple.”

“Adieu, my lord!”

“Adieu, your Grace!”

The candles were just a-light within the villa, where the thick foliage of tree and vine brought a premature gloaming.  Outside fell upon the sward the last rays of the setting sun.  In the depths of the shadowy leaves the glow-worms displayed their phosphorescent beauty; the lampyrid beetles plied between gloom and obscurity, impatient for the mirror of night to flaunt therein their illumined finery.  In the distance was heard the lusty song of the blowsy yokels, as they clumsily carted homeward the day’s gathering.  The erudite nightingale threw wide the throttle of his throat and taught some nestling kin the sweetness of his lore.