"Well, sire, as I was walking along the arcade," continued Maxwell, "I saw a maid belonging to the Lady Arabella, carrying a note in her hand. Now, I had just passed good Sir Thomas Overbury; and a fancy struck me, I do not know why, that all was not right;--for all the Court, you know, say he is playing double with your Majesty. So I asked the girl to let me see the note; and, after much ado, I got her to consent. Well, there, sire, I saw Sir Thomas's own writing, somewhat twisted and turned to disguise it, but clear enough for all that; and, in the inside, was written a warning to the lady to fly from the Court with all speed. He engaged she should have an hour clear; and therefore it was I said there would be mistakes enough, and delays enough, before the warrants are ready." "The false loon," cried the King, "the whelp of a traitor!--But we'll circumvent him. Run, Maxwell, run! Put a guard at the foot of each staircase that leads from her rooms and the Lady Shrewsbury's.--Fegs! they might have put out the '_bury_,' and left the '_Shrew_.'--Tell the guard to let no one pass out.--Run, man! run!--Speak not, but away!" Maxwell obeyed the King's command, and hurried out of the cabinet; and James, casting himself into a chair, gave way to a fit of laughter, in the first place, at the thought of having circumvented Overbury. He soon returned, however, to the thought of the Knight's offences; and he rolled himself about, with much of that awkward air of indignation which the accounts of African travellers ascribe to the angry hippopotamus. "The deceitful pagan!" he cried; "the treacherous dog! I'll punish him for forgetting his duty to God's anointed.--But softly, softly! He has too many secrets. We will deal gently with him.--Those cunning Romans, when they were about to punish a great malefactor, took him up to a high place, before they hurled him headlong down, that he might break his neck by the fall; which is a wise and good example to modern Kings, who may make such men's ambition the Tarpeian rock, from the highest point of which, they may get a fall when they least look for it." CHAPTER XXX. With a pale face, and trembling limbs, Arabella entered the apartments of the Countess of Shrewsbury, and, unable to speak, in her alarm she laid Sir Thomas Overbury's note upon a small round table before her, and pointed to it with her finger. "What is the matter, child?" asked the Countess, taking it up. The moment she saw the contents, however, she became agitated. "Good faith!" she cried, "this is wise advice, Arabella; you had better take it. Who brought this note?" "One of my girls," faltered Arabella.