“His glory is worked through judgment, and thus must it begin!” returned the young man.  “But I would save thee, Humfrey,” he added.  “Go thou back to Plymouth, and be warned to hold aloof from that prison where the keepers will meet their fit doom! and the captive will be set free.  Thou dost not believe,” he added.  “See here,” and drawing into the most sheltered part of the chantry, he produced from his bosom a picture in the miniature style of the period, containing six heads, among which his own was plainly to be recognised, and likewise a face which Humfrey felt as if he should never forget, that which he had seen in Richmond Park, quailing beneath the Queen’s eye.  Round the picture was the motto—­

          “Hi mihi sunt comites quos ipsa pericula jungunt.”

“I tell thee, Humfrey, thou wilt hear—­if thou dost live to hear—­of these six as having wrought the greatest deed of our times!”

“May it only be a deed an honest man need not be ashamed of,” said Humfrey, not at all convinced of his friend’s sanity.

“Ashamed of!” exclaimed Babington.  “It is blest, I tell thee, blest by holy men, blest by the noble and suffering woman who will thus be delivered from her martyrdom.”

“Babington, if thou talkest thus, it will be my duty to have thee put in ward,” said Humfrey.

Antony laughed, and there was a triumphant ring very like insanity in his laughter.  Humfrey, with a moment’s idea that to hint that the conspiracy was known would blast it at once, if it were real, said, “I see not Cuthbert Langston among your six.  Know you, I saw him only yestereven going into Secretary Walsingham’s privy chamber.”

“Was he so?” answered Babington.  “Ha! ha! he holds them all in play till the great stroke be struck!  Why! am not I myself in Walsingham’s confidence?  He thinketh that he is about to send me to France to watch the League.  Ha! ha!”

Here Humfrey’s other companions turned back in search of him; Babington vanished in the crowd, he hardly knew how, and he was left in perplexity and extreme difficulty as to what was his duty as friend or as subject.  If Babington were sane, there must be a conspiracy for killing the Queen, bringing in the Spaniards and liberating Mary, and he had expressly spoken of having had the latter lady’s sanction, while the sight of the fellow in Richmond Park gave a colour of probability to the guess.  Yet the imprudence and absurdity of having portraits taken of six assassins before the blow was struck seemed to contradict all the rest.  On the other hand, Cavendish had spoken of having all the meshes of the web m the hands of the Council; and Langston or Maude seemed to be trusted by both parties.

Humfrey decided to feel his way with Will Cavendish, and that evening spoke of having met Babington and having serious doubts whether he were in his right mind.  Cavendish laughed, “Poor wretch!  I could pity him,” he said, “though his plans be wicked enough to merit no compassion.  Nay, never fear, Humfrey.  All were overthrown, did I speak openly.  Nay, to utter one word would ruin me for ever.  ’Tis quite sufficient to say that he and his fellows are only at large till Mr. Secretary sees fit, that so his grip may be the more sure.”