Of the existence of these two letters and the contents of the pillow, Colonel Frank Esmond, who became Viscount Castlewood, told Henry Esmond afterwards, when the letters were shown to his lordship, who congratulated himself, as he had good reason, that he had not joined in the scheme which proved so fatal to many concerned in it.  But, naturally, the lad knew little about these circumstances when they happened under his eyes:  only being aware that his patron and his mistress were in some trouble, which had caused the flight of the one and the apprehension of the other by the officers of King William.

The seizure of the papers effected, the gentlemen did not pursue their further search through Castlewood House very rigorously.  They examined Mr. Holt’s room, being led thither by his pupil, who showed, as the Father had bidden him, the place where the key of his chamber lay, opened the door for the gentlemen, and conducted them into the room.

When the gentlemen came to the half-burned papers in the brazier, they examined them eagerly enough, and their young guide was a little amused at their perplexity.

“What are these?” says one.

“They’re written in a foreign language,” says the lawyer.  “What are you laughing at, little whelp?” adds he, turning round as he saw the boy smile.

“Mr. Holt said they were sermons,” Harry said, “and bade me to burn them;” which indeed was true of those papers.

“Sermons indeed—­it’s treason, I would lay a wager,” cries the lawyer.

“Egad! it’s Greek to me,” says Captain Westbury.  “Can you read it, little boy?”

“Yes, sir, a little,” Harry said.

“Then read, and read in English, sir, on your peril,” said the lawyer.  And Harry began to translate:—­

“Hath not one of your own writers said, ’The children of Adam are now laboring as much as he himself ever did, about the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, shaking the boughs thereof, and seeking the fruit, being for the most part unmindful of the tree of life.’  Oh blind generation! ’tis this tree of knowledge to which the serpent has led you”—­and here the boy was obliged to stop, the rest of the page being charred by the fire:  and asked of the lawyer—­“Shall I go on, sir?”

The lawyer said—­“This boy is deeper than he seems:  who knows that he is not laughing at us?”

“Let’s have in Dick the Scholar,” cried Captain Westbury, laughing:  and he called to a trooper out of the window—­“Ho, Dick, come in here and construe.”

A thick-set soldier, with a square good-humored face, came in at the summons, saluting his officer.

“Tell us what is this, Dick,” says the lawyer.

“My name is Steele, sir,” says the soldier.  “I may be Dick for my friends, but I don’t name gentlemen of your cloth amongst them.”

“Well then, Steele.”

“Mr. Steele, sir, if you please.  When you address a gentleman of his Majesty’s Horse Guards, be pleased not to be so familiar.”