Still the knave stood up erect, and exclaimed, with an impudence which Oates might have envied, “This hiding is all a trick got up between the Bishop and Blackhead.  The Bishop has taken Blackhead off; and they are both trying to stifle the plot.”  This was too much.  There was a smile and a lifting up of hands all round the board.  “Man,” cried Caermarthen, “wouldst thou have us believe that the Bishop contrived to have this paper put where it was ten to one that our messengers had found it, and where, if they had found it, it might have hanged him?”

The false accusers were removed in custody.  The Bishop, after warmly thanking the ministers for their fair and honourable conduct, took his leave of them.  In the antechamber he found a crowd of people staring at Young, while Young sate, enduring the stare with the serene fortitude of a man who had looked down on far greater multitudes from half the pillories in England.  “Young,” said Sprat, “your conscience must tell you that you have cruelly wronged me.  For your own sake I am sorry that you persist in denying what your associate has confessed.”  “Confessed!” cried Young; “no, all is not confessed yet; and that you shall find to your sorrow.  There is such a thing as impeachment, my Lord.  When Parliament sits you shall hear more of me.”  “God give you repentance,” answered the Bishop.  “For, depend upon it, you are in much more danger of being damned than I of being impeached."281

Forty-eight hours after the detection of this execrable fraud, Marlborough was admitted to bail.  Young and Blackhead had done him an inestimable service.  That he was concerned in a plot quite as criminal as that which they had falsely imputed to him, and that the government was to possession of moral proofs of his guilt, is now certain.  But his contemporaries had not, as we have, the evidence of his perfidy before them.  They knew that he had been accused of an offence of which he was innocent, that perjury and forgery had been employed to ruin him, and that, in consequence of these machinations, he had passed some weeks in the Tower.  There was in the public mind a very natural confusion between his disgrace and his imprisonment.  He had been imprisoned without sufficient cause.  Might it not, in the absence of all information, be reasonably presumed that he had been disgraced without sufficient cause?  It was certain that a vile calumny, destitute of all foundation, had caused him to be treated as a criminal in May.  Was it not probable, then, that calumny might have deprived him of his master’s favour in January?

Young’s resources were not yet exhausted.  As soon as he had been carried back from Whitehall to Newgate, he set himself to construct a new plot, and to find a new accomplice.  He addressed himself to a man named Holland, who was in the lowest state of poverty.  Never, said Young, was there such a golden opportunity.  A bold, shrewd, fellow might easily earn five hundred pounds.  To Holland