In a minute they all came hurrying in--comptroller, secretary, clerks, grooms, and underlings--in dress or in undress, a motley crew, as the occasion had found them. “What is it, my lord?” asked the first in an astonished voice. He was a tall, pallid man, so inured to method and routine that a rat behind the wainscot was enough to throw him into a flutter. “Master Hugh,” cried the Treasurer--“Master Hugh! I found that in my pocket when I came to strip--a thing that I had never put there, or put unconsciously. What do you make of it, my friend? What does it import?” They all gathered round the comptroller to read the billet, and, having examined it, fell apart with grave, inquiring faces. The comptroller looked up, his lips trembling. “My lord,” he said, “it can signify but one thing.” “My assassination?” “Without doubt, my lord.” The Treasurer turned pale to the bare dome of his head. He had to the last hoped to have his worst apprehensions refuted; but it was plain that only one construction could be put upon the missive. “How did it reach me?” he said dismally. “How did it get there?” “Probably, my lord,” ventured the secretary, a sleek, apologetic man, “it was slipped into your lordship’s hand by one whom your lordship mistook for a chance importunate suitor, and your lordship accepted and pouched and forgot it.” “It may have represented a threat or a friendly warning,” said the comptroller. “Your lordship hath many and mighty enemies,” said the secretary, “as who hath not among the great and influential?” “Your power, your imperious will, your favour in high places, my lord,” said the comptroller--“these be all incitements to the envious and unscrupulous. Without question there is some conspiracy formed against your life.” “I could almost suspect you all of collusion in it,” cried the Treasurer bitterly, “for the relish with which you dispose of me.” The comptroller murmured distressfully, “O, my lord, my lord!” Sir Richard broke out, moved beyond endurance: “What the devil do you all, moaning and croaking? I am not food yet for your commiseration. The plot may be already forward while you babble. Look under the bed, Phineas.” The valet dived, rose, scoured the room, examined into every possible lurking-place. “Shall I set a guard, my lord?” inquired the comptroller. The Treasurer exploded: “Set a guard when the thief is in! A household of braying jackasses! Go, dolt, and remedy your oversight. Shut the gates and warn the porter; beat up every hole and corner first. See that not a soul is allowed entrance on any pretext whatever. And, hark ye, Master Hugh, no eye to-night shall be shut on penalty of my high displeasure. An unwinking vigil, an unwinking vigil, Master Hugh, on the part of all. See to it. And if anyone asks an audience, save of the first consequence and character, I am indisposed, Master Hugh--I am indisposed, do you hear?”