even if none of these had been proved, still, the mere sum of them was enough; there could be no smoke without fire, said the proverb-quoters.  It was alleged that he had been privy to the plot against the Queen (the plot of young Mr. Babington, who had sold his house down there a week or two only before his arrest); he had denied this, but he had allowed that he had spoken with her Grace immediately after the plot; and this was a highly suspicious circumstance:  if he allowed so much as this, the rest might be safely presumed.  Again, it was said that he had had part in attempts to free the Queen of the Scots, even from Fotheringay itself; and had been in the castle court, with a number of armed servants, at the very time of her execution.  Again, if he allowed that he had been present, even though he denied the armed servants, the rest might be presumed.  Finally, since he were a priest, and had seen her Grace at a time when there was no chaplain allowed to her, it was certain that he must have ministered their Popish superstitions to her, and this was neither denied nor affirmed:  he had said to this that they had yet to prove him a priest at all.  The very spectacle of the trial, too, had been remarkable; for, first, there was the extraordinary appearance of the prisoner, bent double like an old man, with the face of a dead one, though he could not be above thirty years old at the very most; and then there was the unusual number of magistrates present in court besides the judges, and my lord Shrewsbury himself, who had presided at the racking.  It was one of my lord’s men, too, that had helped to identify the prisoner.

But the supreme interest lay in even more startling circumstances—­in the history of Mistress Manners, who was present through the trial with Mr. Biddell the lawyer, and who had obtained at least two interviews with the prisoner, one before the torture and the other after sentence.  It was in Mistress Manners’ house at Booth’s Edge that the priest had been taken; and it was freely rumoured that although Mr. Audrey had once been betrothed to her, yet that she had released and sent him herself to Rheims, and all to end like this.  And yet she could bear to come and see him again; and, it was said, would be present somewhere in the crowd even at his death.

Finally, the tale of how the priest had been taken by his own father—­old Mr. Audrey of Matstead—­him that was now lying sick in Mr. Columbell’s house—­this put the crown on all the rest.  A hundred rumours flew this way and that:  one said that the old man had known nothing of his son’s presence in the country, but had thought him to be still in foreign parts.  Another, that he knew him to be in England, but not that he was in the county; a third, that he knew very well who it was in the house he went to search, and had searched it and taken him on purpose to set his own loyalty beyond question.  Opinions differed as to the propriety of such an action....