Let me beseech you, therefore, my lord, to be most careful and guarded in your speech; to content yourself with simply denying all treasonable intentions, and to leave me, and any other friends whom you may think fit to employ, to endeavour, by using all extraordinary means, to save you even from the pain and risk of trial.  Our greatest hope and the greatest security for you, is the fact—­which is so generally reported that I fancy it must be true—­that Sir John Fenwick has charged a number of persons in the highest stations, and some even near to the King’s person and counsels.  It will be for every one’s interest, therefore, to cast discredit upon all his accusations, and amongst the rest, perhaps, this also may fall to the ground.”

“Could you not see him, Wilton, could you not see him?” demanded the Duke, eagerly.  “Perhaps he might be persuaded to mitigate his charge; to withdraw it; or to add some account of the abhorrence I expressed at the plans and purposes I heard.”

“I see no way by which I could gain admittance, my lord,” replied Wilton.  “He is a close prisoner in Newgate.  I know no one who even is acquainted with him; and I believe none but his wife and various members of the government are admitted to see him alone.  However, I will do my best, my lord, and if I can gain admission, I will.”

The Duke cast himself in deep despondency into a chair, and mused for several minutes without reply, seeing evidently, from Wilton’s words and manner, that he thought his case a desperate one.  After a moment, however, a momentary ray of hope crossed his countenance again.

“Cannot you see the Lady Mary Fenwick?” he said.  “She could surely gain you admission to her husband.  She is a distant relation of my own, too, for my grandfather married Lady Carlisle’s aunt.  Beseech her, Wilton, to gain you admittance; and try also—­try, by all means—­to make her use her influence with her husband in my behalf.  Perhaps at her entreaty he would modify the charge, or retract a part of it.  It can do him no good—­it may ruin me.”

“I will do my best, my lord,” replied Wilton, “and in the meantime my Lord of Byerdale desired me to tell your grace that he would visit you to-morrow.  He comes, indeed, merely as a friend; but I would beg your grace to remember that he is also a minister of the crown, bound by his office to give intimation of everything affecting the welfare of the state.”

“Oh, I will be careful, I will be careful!” replied the Duke.  “But can you think of nothing else, Wilton? can we fall upon no means?  Would to Heaven I had always taken your advice!  I should not now be here.  Should I ever escape, you will find me a different being, Wilton.  I will not forget your kindness, nor be ungrateful for it;” and he fell into a somewhat sad and feeble commentary upon his own conduct, briefly expressing regret for what he had done, partly alleging excuses for it, but still evidently speaking under the overpowering