"You shall receive impartial justice at our hands," put in Phelips, whose manner was of a dangerous mildness. "Depend on that. Not only shall you know the name of your accuser, but you shall be confronted by him. Meanwhile, sirs"--and his glance strayed from Blake's flushed and angry countenance to Richard's, pale and timid--"meanwhile, are we to understand that you deny the charge?"

"I have heard none as yet," said Sir Rowland insolently.

Albemarle turned to one of the secretaries. "Read them the indictment,"

said he, and sank back in his chair, his dull glance upon the prisoners, whilst the clerk in a droning voice read from a doc.u.ment which he took up. It impeached Sir Rowland Blake and Mr. Richard Westmacott of holding treasonable communication with James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, and of plotting against His Majesty's life and throne and the peace of His Majesty's realms.

Blake listened with unconcealed impatience to the farrago of legal phrases, and snorted contemptuously when the reading came to an end.

Albemarle looked at him darkly. "I do thank G.o.d," said he, "that through Mr. Westmacott's folly has this hideous plot, this black and d.a.m.nable treason, been brought to light in time to enable us to stamp out this fire ere it is well kindled. Have you aught to say, sir?"

"I have to say that the whole charge a foul and unfounded lie," said Sir Rowland bluntly: "I never plotted in my life against anything but my own prosperity, nor against any man but myself."

Albemarle smiled coldly at his colleagues, then turned to Westmacott.

"And you, sir?" he said. "Are you as stubborn as your friend?"

"I incontinently deny the charge," said Richard, and he contrived that his voice should ring bold and resolute.

"A charge built on air," sneered Blake, "which the first breath of truth should utterly dispel. We have heard the impeachment. Will Your Grace with the same consideration permit us to see the proofs that we may lay bare their falseness? It should not be difficult."

"Do you say there is no such plot as is here alleged?" quoth the Duke, and smote a paper sharply.

Blake shrugged his shoulders. "How should I know?" he asked. "I say I have no share in any, that I am acquainted with none."

"Call Mr. Trenchard," said the Duke quietly, and an usher who had stood tamely by the door at the far end of the room departed on the errand.

Richard started at the mention of that name. He had a singular dread of Mr. Trenchard.

Colonel Luttrell--lean and wiry--now addressed the prisoners, Blake more particularly. "Still," said he, "you will admit that such a plot may, indeed, exist?"

"It may, indeed, for aught I know--or care," he added incautiously.

Albemarle smote the table with a heavy hand. "By G.o.d!" he cried in that deep booming voice of his, "there spoke a traitor! You do not care, you say, what plots may be hatched against His Majesty's life and crown! Yet you ask me to believe you a true and loyal subject."

Blake was angered; he was at best a short-tempered man. Deliberately he floundered further into the mire.

"I have not asked Your Grace to believe me anything," he answered hotly.

"It is all one to me what Your Grace believes me. I take it I have not been fetched hither to be confronted with what Your Grace believes. You have preferred a lying charge against me; I ask for proofs, not Your Grace's beliefs and opinions."

"By G.o.d, sir, you are a daring rogue!" cried Albemarle.

Sir Rowland's eyes blazed. "Anon, Your Grace, when, having failed of your proofs, you shall be constrained to restore me to liberty, I shall ask Your Grace to unsay that word."

Albemarle stared, confounded, and in that moment the door opened, and Trenchard sauntered in, cane in hand, his hat under his arm, a wicked smile on his wizened face.

Leaving Blake's veiled threat unanswered, the Duke turned to the old rake. "These rogues," said he, pointing to the prisoners, "demand proofs ere they will admit the truth of the impeachment."

"Those proofs," said Trenchard, "are already in Your Grace's hands."

"Aye, but they have asked to be confronted with their accuser."

Trenchard bowed. "Is it your wish, then, that I recite for them the counts on which I have based the accusation I laid before Your Grace?"

"If you will condescend so far," said Albemarle.

"Blister me...!" roared Blake, when the Duke interrupted him.

"By G.o.d, sir!" he cried, "I'll have no such disrespectful language here.

You'll observe the decency of speech and forbear from profanities, you d.a.m.ned rogue, or by G.o.d! I'll commit you forthwith."

"I will endeavour," said Blake, with a sarcasm lost on Albemarle, "to follow Your Grace's lofty example."

"You will do well, sir," said the Duke, and was shocked that Trenchard should laugh at such a moment.

"I was about to protest, sir," said Blake, "that it is monstrous I should be accused by Mr. Trenchard. He has but the slightest acquaintance with me."

Trenchard bowed to him across the chamber. "Admitted, sir," said he. "What should I be doing in bad company?" An answer this that set Albemarle bawling with laughter. Trenchard turned to the Duke. "I will begin, an it please Your Grace, with the expressions used last night in my presence at the Bell Inn at Bridgwater by Mr. Richard Westmacott, and I will confine myself strictly to those matters on which my testimony can be corroborated by that of other witnesses."

Colonel Luttrell interrupted him to turn to Richard. "Do you recall those expressions, sir?" he asked him.

Richard winced under the question. Nevertheless, he braced himself to make the best defence he could. "I have not yet heard," said he, "what those expressions were; nor when I hear them must it follow that I recognize them as my own. I must admit to having taken more wine, perhaps, than... than..." Whilst he sought the expression that he needed Trenchard cut in with a laugh. "In vino veritas, gentlemen," and His Grace and Sir Edward nodded sagely; Luttrell preserved a stolid exterior. He seemed less p.r.o.ne than his colleagues to forejudging.

"Will you repeat the expressions used by Mr. Westmacott?" Sir Edward begged.

"I will repeat the one that, to my mind, matters most." Mr. Westmacott, getting to his feet and in a loud voice, exclaimed, "G.o.d save the Protestant Duke!"

"Do you admit it, sir?" thundered Albemarle, his eyes glowering upon Richard hesitated a moment, pale and trembling.

"You will waste breath in denying it," said Trenchard suavely, "for I have a drawer from the Bell Inn, and two gentlemen who overheard you waiting outside."

"I'faith, sir," cried Blake, "what treason was therein that? If he..."

"Silence!" thundered Albemarle. "Let Mr. Westmacott speak for himself."

Richard, inspired by the defence Blake had begun, took the same line of argument. "I admit that in the heat of wine I may have used such words,"

said he. "But I deny their intent to be treasonable. There are many men who drink to the prosperity of the late Kings's son..."

"Natural son, sir; natural son," Albemarle amended. "It is treason to speak of him otherwise."

"It will be a treason presently to draw breath," sneered Blake.

"If it be," said Trenchard, "it is a treason you'll not be long committing."

"Faith, you are right, Mr. Trenchard," said the Duke with a laugh.

Indeed, he found Mr. Trenchard a most pleasant and facetious gentleman.

"Still," insisted Richard, endeavouring in spite of these irrelevancies to make good his point, "there be many men who drink daily to the prosperity of the late King's natural son."

"Aye, sir," answered Albemarle; "but not his prosperity in horrid plots against the life of our beloved sovereign."