“If this lady will promise not to betray an unfortunate Queen,” he said, as if permission to deal with his bruises were a great reward.

“Oh! you foolish boy!” exclaimed Mistress Talbot, “you were never meant for a plotter! you have yourself betrayed that you are her messenger.”

“And I am not ashamed of it,” said Antony, holding his head high.  “Madam, madam, if you have surprised this from me, you are the more bound not to betray her.  Think, lady, if you were shut up from your children and friends, would you not seek to send tidings to them?”

“Child, child!  Heaven knows I am not blaming the poor lady within there.  I am only thinking what is right.”

“Well,” said Antony, somewhat hopefully, “if that be all, give me back the packet, or tear it up, if you will, and there can be no harm done.”

“Oh, do so, sweet mother,” entreated Cis, earnestly; “he will never bid me go to Tibbott again.”

“Ay,” said Humfrey, “then no tales will be told.”

For even he, with all his trustworthiness, or indeed because of it, could not bear to bring a comrade to disgrace; but the dilemma was put an end to by the sudden appearance on the scene of Captain Richard himself, demanding the cause of the disturbance, and whether his sons had been misbehaving to their guest.

“Dear sir, sweet father, do not ask,” entreated Cis, springing to him, and taking his hand, as she was privileged to do; “mother has come, and it is all made up and over now.”

Richard Talbot, however, had seen the packet which his wife was holding, and her anxious, perplexed countenance, and the perilous atmosphere of suspicion around him made it incumbent on him to turn to her and say, “What means this, mother?  Is it as Cis would have me believe, a mere childish quarrel that I may pass over? or what is this packet?”

“Master Babington saith it is a dog-whistle which he was leaving in charge with Cis to exchange for another with Huckstress Tibbott,” she answered.

“Feel,—­nay, open it, and see if it be not, sir,” cried Antony.

“I doubt not that so it is,” said the captain; “but you know, Master Babington, that it is the duty of all here in charge to let no packet pass the gate which has not been viewed by my lord’s officers.”

“Then, sir, I will take it back again,” said Antony, with a vain attempt at making his brow frank and clear.

Instead of answering.  Captain Talbot took the knife from his girdle, and cut in twain the yarn that bound the packet.  There was no doubt about the whistle being there, nor was there anything written on the wrapper; but perhaps the anxiety in Antony’s eye, or even the old association with boatswains, incited Mr. Talbot to put the whistle to his lips.  Not a sound would come forth.  He looked in, and saw what led him to blow with all his force, when a white roll of paper protruded, and on another blast fell out into his hand.