“I could not choose but run the risk,” said Richard.  “What else came I to London for?”

“Well,” said his cousin, “you are a brave man, Richard Talbot.  I know those who had rather scale a Spanish fortress than face Queen Elizabeth in her wrath.  Her tongue is sharper than even my stepdame’s, though it doth not run on so long.”

Lord Talbot was not quite easy when that evening a gentleman, clad in rich scarlet and gold, and armed to the teeth, presented himself at Shrewsbury House and inquired for Mr. Talbot of Bridgefield.  However, it proved to be the officer of the troop of gentlemen pensioners come to enroll Diccon, tell him the requirements, and arrange when he should join in a capacity something like that of an esquire to one of the seniors of the troop.  Humfrey was likewise inquired for, but it was thought better on all accounts that he should continue in his present situation, since it was especially needful to have trustworthy persons at Chartley in the existing crisis.  Master Richard was well satisfied to find that his son’s immediate superior would be a gentleman of a good Yorkshire family, whose father was known to him, and who promised to have a care of Master Richard the younger, and preserve him, as far as possible, from the perils of dicing, drinking, and running into bad company.

Launching a son in this manner and equipping him for service was an anxious task for a father, while day after day the trial was deferred, the examinations being secretly carried on before the Council till, as Cavendish explained, what was important should be disclosed.

Of course this implied what should be fatal to Queen Mary.  The priest Ballard was racked, but he was a man of great determination, and nothing was elicited from him.  The other prisoners, and Nau and Curll, were questioned again and again under threats and promises before the Council, and the letters that had been copied on their transit through the beer barrels were read and made the subject of cross-examination—­still all in private, for, as Cavendish said, “perilous stuff to the Queen’s Majesty might come out.”

He allowed, however, day after day, that though there was quite enough to be fatal to Ballard, Babington, Savage, and Barnwell, whatever else was wanting was not forthcoming.  At last, however, Cavendish returned full of a certain exultation:  “We have it,” he said,—­“a most undoubted treasonable letter, which will catch her between the shoulders and the head.”

He spoke to Lord Talbot and Richard, who were standing together in a window, and who knew only too well who was referred to, and what the expression signified.  On a further query from his step-brother, Cavendish explained that it was a long letter, dated July 16, arranging in detail the plan for “the Lady’s” own rescue from Chartley at the moment of the landing of the Spaniards, and likewise showing her privy to the design of the six gentlemen against the life of the Queen, and desiring to know their names.  Nau had, he said, verified the cipher as one used in the correspondence, and Babington, when it was shown to him, had declared that it had been given to him in the street by a stranger serving-man in a blue coat, and that it had removed all doubt from his mind, as it was an answer to a letter of his, a copy of which had been produced, but not the letter itself.