“Ha! so it is!” cried Dudley. “Why is this, Sir?” he added, fiercely, to Lovel. “How comes it that yon gate is closed?” “I did not know it was so,” replied the other. “There must be some mistake. But I will cause it to be reopened instantly.” “There is no mistake,” cried Xit, in his loudest and most important voice; “it is by my orders that Traitors’ Gate has been shut, and it will not be opened again. Traitors, ye are caught in a trap. Ye have come here, with wicked and felonious intent, to carry off the King’s treasure, but instead of departing with your plunder to stir up rebellion, you will be lodged in the dungeons of the Tower, and ere long expiate your manifold and dire offences on the scaffold.” At this address the conspirators stared aghast, and laid their hands upon their swords. Osbert Clinton, however, signed to them to keep quiet, and said to Lovel, “What means this, Sir? Is it some ill-timed jest?” “I will tell you what it means, Master Osbert Clinton,” interposed Xit. “It means, that you, and all those with you, are my prisoners. I arrest you all for high treason. You yourself, Master Osbert Clinton—you Sir Henry Dudley—you, Sir Anthony Kingston—you, Master Udal, and all the rest of you. Deliver up your swords.” “This is droll,” cried Osbert Clinton, forcing a laugh; “but the jest may prove no laughing matter for thee. Get the gate opened,” he added to Lovel. “We will have the treasure in spite of them.” “Traitors’ Gate shall _not_ be opened,” screamed Xit. “I forbid it, and ye shall find whether or not I shall be obeyed. Stir a single foot, thou traitor Lovel, and thou art a dead man.” And drawing his sword, he presented it at the breast of the keeper of the treasure, exclaiming, “I arrest thee, also, on a charge of conspiracy and treason.” “An end must be put to this folly,” cried Osbert, fiercely. “By the time you have got the treasure on board I will have the gate opened,” he added to Dudley. Then drawing his sword, he commanded Xit to stand out of the way. “Help me, my faithful giants!” cried Xit, retreating. “Help me!” And at the words, Og and Gog issued from the passage where they had remained concealed, and with their halberds opposed Osbert’s advance. “Back!” roared Magog, in a voice of thunder, “or you rush upon your death.” “You had better yield,” cried Xit. “You cannot escape. You will more easily cut your way through the solid beams of Traitors’ Gate than you will hew a passage through these living walls.” “I will cut a way through both sooner than surrender,” rejoined Osbert. “Follow me, friends.”