"Madam, I have seen divers of whom I knew no more than to see them, whose names--but no more--I can specify if your Ladyship desire it. But those that I did really know and at all consort with were three only beside Mr Tom Rookwood--to wit, Mr Percy, Mr Catesby, and Mr Thomas Winter: and I saw but little save of the last." "The boy's telling truth," said Lady Oxford to herself. "He has been exceedingly foolish, but no worse." Then aloud she asked,--"Saw you ever any priests there?" "Not to know them for such, Madam." "Tampered they with you in any wise as to religion?" "Never, Madam." "And you are yet at heart a true Protestant, and loyal to King James?" "As much so as I ever was, Madam." But as Aubrey spoke, the question arose in his conscience,--What had he ever cared about either? Not half as much as he had cared for Tom Winter,--nay, not so much as he had cared for Tom Winter's tobacco. "Mr Louvaine," said the Countess, suddenly, "have you discovered that you are a very foolish young man?" Aubrey flushed red, and remained silent. "It seems to me," she continued, "that you speak truth, and that you have been no worser than foolish. Yet, so being, you must surely guess that for your own sake, no less than for the Earl's, you must leave this house, and that quickly." He had not guessed it, and it came upon him like a bomb-shell. Leave Oxford House! What was to become of him? "And if you will take my advice, you will not essay to win into any other service. Tarry as still as you can some whither, till matters be blown over, and men begin to forget the inwards of this affair: not in Town. Have you no friend in the country that would take you in for a while? 'Tis for your own good, and for my Lady Lettice' sake, that I give you this counsel." "Lie hidden in the country!" Aubrey's tones were perfectly aghast. Such an expectation had never visited his least coherent dreams.