The narrative has already been brought down to the autumn of 1605, when the parliament was prorogued from October to November the 5th. On Saturday evening, October 26, ten days previous to the day fixed for the opening of parliament, a letter, addressed to Lord Monteagle, was delivered, by a person unknown, to his lordship’s footman, in the street, with a strict injunction to deliver it into his master’s own hands. This circumstance took place at seven o’clock, just as the nobleman was about to sit down to supper. The letter was put into his lordship’s hand by the servant. On opening it, he found it written in a very illegible hand, and without date or subscription. Monteagle summoned one of his attendants, to assist him in deciphering the epistle, which was couched in the following terms:— “My lord, “Out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation; therefore, I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift off your attendance at this parliament; for God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. And think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your country, where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no appearance of any stir, _yet I say they shall receive a terrible blow this parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them_. This council is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm; _for the danger is past, as soon as you have burnt the letter_: and I hope God will give you the grace to make a good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you[12].” [Footnote 12: “A strange letter, from a strange hand, by a strange messenger: without date to it, name at it, and (I had almost said) sense in it. A letter which, even when it was opened, was still sealed, such the affected obscurity therein.”—FULLER. Book x. 26.] Dark, indeed, were the words. In the first instance, Monteagle viewed the matter as a _hoax_, intended to prevent him from attending the opening of the session. Still he deemed it the safest course not to conceal its contents. Accordingly he hastened off to Whitehall at that late hour, when, too, the streets of London were not lighted as they are in our day, and submitted the letter to the earl of Salisbury, Cecil, one of the secretaries of state. It does not appear that Cecil laid much stress upon the letter; at the same time he expressed an opinion, that it might refer to some design of the papists, respecting which he had received some information from various quarters. His information, however, did not relate to any plot; but merely to an attempt, on the part of the Romanists, at the commencement of the session, to obtain a toleration for their worship, and the relaxation of some of the penal laws.