to have had dealings with the false traitors who have planned all.  Then wilt thou, Cuthbert Trevlyn, whose name has already been whispered abroad as one having cognizance of this matter, be handed over to the tender mercies of the law.  It will be told of thee how thou wast caught in the very garden of the house where these vile conspirators resort, and that thou didst fight like a fury to save thyself from capture.  Thy dealings with Father Urban will be remembered against thee, and many another thing beside.  A traitor’s death will be thine end; and thou wilt wish in vain when those dark hours come upon thee thou hadst saved thyself when yet there was time.  I give thee two hours to bethink thee of these things.  If thou wilt speak plainly, tell us all thou knowest, and help to place the treasure in our hands, we will save thee from the fate that awaits thee on shore.  If not, we will give thee over to it; and then no power on earth can save thee.”

But Cuthbert’s mind had already been made up, and he did not waver.  He knew himself innocent of all complicity in the plot, and he clung to the hope that his innocence might be proved.  In no case would he purchase his freedom by a loss of self respect, by a cowardly yielding up of that very treasure it had been the dream of his life to restore to the house of Trevlyn.  Argument and menace were alike thrown away upon him; and two hours later, bound hand and foot, as Tyrrel had said, he was thrown roughly into the bottom of the wherry, and rowed downstream in dead silence, he knew not whither.

Chapter 26:  Jacob’s Devotion.

“If thou wouldst save thy friend from a terrible fate, come hither to me without delay.”

Jacob stood gazing at this scrap of parchment as one in a dream, his slow wits only taking in by degrees the meaning of the mysterious words.

“Thy friend,” he repeated slowly, “thy friend!  What friend?  I have many.  Terrible fate!  Saints preserve us, what means that?  Can it be Cuthbert who is in peril—­that rash Cuthbert, for ever diving into matters he had far, far better let alone, and burning his fingers for naught?  Can it be of him it speaks?  Belike it may.  There have been ugly whispers abroad of late.  Mine uncle told me only this day that some constables came to his door asking some trivial questions anent his household, and speaking of Cuthbert by name.  It would be like his folly at such a moment to run his head into a noose.

“But he shall not be hurt if I can help it.  Who is this wise woman who sends the message?  Methinks I have heard Rachel speak of her ere now.  Well, I can but go visit her and hear what she would have to say.  I know the house in Budge Row; I took Rachel to the door once.  For myself, I love not such hocus pocus; but if it be a matter of Cuthbert’s safety, I will e’en go and listen to her tale.  If she wants to filch money from me for foul purposes, she will find she has come to the wrong man.  I will pay for nothing till I have got my money’s worth.”