“Look at me, Lupo, ere thou answerest,” cried Sir Giles.  “Look at me well—­and take heed what thou say’st.”

“Be not influenced by him,” interposed Charles.  “Look only at me, and speak truly, as thou valuest thy safety.  If thou hidest aught, or falsifiest aught, the heaviest punishment awaits thee!”

“Hark ye, Lupo,” said Sir Giles, in a low tone.  “Be warned by me.  Utter a word to my detriment, and as surely as thou art suborned to injure me, I will hang thee.  I can do so, as thou knowest!”

“Fear him not, Lupo,” said Lanyere.  “Thou hast his Highness’s gracious promise of pardon.”

“If my life be but spared, most gracious Prince,” said the scrivener, falling on his knees, and clasping his hands together in supplication, “I will reveal all I know touching the malpractices of these two persons.”

“Speak, then, without fear,” said Charles.

“I repeat my question,” said Lanyere, “and demand an explicit answer to it.  What was the nature of that deed?”

“It was a forgery,” replied the scrivener.  “Sir Ferdinando Mounchensey had nothing whatever to do with it.  His signature was imitated from other deeds in the possession of my employers, and his seal was likewise fabricated.”

“What say you to this, Sir?” said Charles, to Sir Giles.

“I deny it, as I do all the rest,” he replied. “’Tis a foul conspiracy against me, as will appear in the end.”

“This is only one amongst many such frauds committed by them, your Highness,” said the scrivener.  “Since I have your gracious promise of pardon, I will make a clean breast of it, and reveal all I know.  Many and many a fair estate has been wrongfully wrested from its owner in this way—­by forged deed or will.  I will name all the parties to your Highness.”

“Hereafter, I will listen to thee,” rejoined Charles, motioning him to rise; “but I shall now confine myself to the case immediately before me.  Proceed, Sir,” he added, to Lanyere.

“I have come to the saddest and darkest part of all,” said the promoter.  “Your Highness has seen that a deed was forged to obtain possession of the Mounchensey estates—­and the fraudulent design was only too successful.  It was in vain Sir Ferdinando denied all knowledge of the instrument—­in vain he refused payment of the large sum demanded—­his estates were seized by the extortioners—­and he was deprived of the power of redemption.  He commenced a suit against them in the Star-Chamber, but here again he was baffled by the cunning and knavery of Sir Giles, and having unwittingly incurred the censure of the Court, he was cast into the Fleet Prison, where he perished miserably.”

“A lamentable history,” exclaimed Charles.  “It is grievous to think that justice cannot be done him.”

“Justice may he done his son,” said Buckingham, “who has been oppressed in like manner with his father.  Restitution may be made him of the estates of which he has been plundered.”