“The King is not like our good Queen—­Heaven rest her soul!” said the Viscount, laughing.  “He does not trust his people.  He is always in fear of some mischance either through accident or design.  Well may the great Shakespeare have said:  ’Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown!’ Albeit the King would do better to have a little more courage.”

This was the first word Cuthbert had heard of any uneasiness in high quarters, and he asked with some eagerness: 

“Meanest thou that the King fears some evil to himself at this time?”

“No; I have heard naught of that.  The country seems unwontedly quiet.  It is the fear which never leaves him—­the fear that makes him wear a doublet so thickly quilted that it would suffice to turn the sharpest blade, even as a suit of chain mail.  He is always dreading assassination.  That is why he wills such close watch to be kept, lest haply any evil-disposed person might find hiding within the walls and spring upon him unawares.  Methinks it is an unkingly fear, but there it be, and he carries it ever with him.  The Queen had none such—­nor had she need; and as thou knowest, when once an assassin did approach her when she was alone in her garden, the glance of her eye kept him cowed and at bay till her gentlemen could hasten to her side.  She was a Queen in very truth!  I would we had more of her like!”

Culverhouse spoke out aloud, careless of being overheard, for he was but speaking the thoughts of the whole nation.  Cuthbert echoed his wish with all sincerity; and still looking round and about him with keen interest, went through a certain mental calculation which caused him at last to ask: 

“And what buildings lie around or beneath this?”

“I know not exactly how that may be.  There is a house close beside this where methinks I have heard that Master Thomas Percy dwells, the steward to my Lord of Northumberland.  I know not what lies beneath; it may be some sort of cellar.

“Dost thou know, fellow, whether there be cellars beneath this place?”

Culverhouse spoke to a man-at-arms who appeared to be on duty there, and who had for some moments been regarding Cuthbert with close scrutiny, and had now drawn slowly near them.  Cuthbert was vaguely aware that the man’s face was in some way familiar to him, but he had no recollection where he had seen him before.

“Master Thomas Percy has rented the cellar beneath, where his coals be stored,” answered the man carelessly; and Cuthbert, who had asked the question rather haphazard and without exactly knowing why, moved away to examine a piece of fine carving close at hand.

Whilst he was doing this he knew that the man-at-arms asked Culverhouse a question, to which the latter gave ready reply, and he heard the name of Trevlyn pass his lips.  At the moment he heeded this little, but the remembrance came back to him later.