"Why so, Harry?" asked Lord Bellinger. "Have you seen the minister? What have you heard?" "They're in a devil of a stew down there," answered the other, intimating with a jerk of his head the locality in which his Majesty's Council conducted their deliberations. "They've had an enemy in the camp, it seems, ever since the late king's death. Our Gracious himself has been sitting on a powder-barrel, only he does not believe it; and would care very little if he did. They've plenty of courage, _that_ family, I must admit; we can't say as much for the others. Well, the Scotchman is in a fearful state! The only thief-taker in the town who knows a thief when he sees one, or how to take him, or can be persuaded to try, was with the minister more than two hours yesterday. The other side will put up somebody to ask a question directly Parliament meets. The House is very ticklish about treachery. There's no saying how things might go; and he dare not--no, he _dare_ not risk a general election. The 'man in the street' says it's all _your_ doing. Fred, mind I know nothing for certain." Lord Bellinger pondered. "Has anybody confessed anything?" he asked, after some consideration. "Nobody who _had_ anything to confess!" answered his friend with a smile. "The only man who could have told them what they wanted to know wisely took himself out of the way. That idiotic newspaper which Sir Alexander has been flourishing over his empty head made a better shot than usual. There _has_ been a spy among us, no doubt, and rumour mentions one or two names, I dare _not_. The fortune-teller, I can well believe, had a finger in the pie; and people go so far as to say that meetings were held in his house between staunch Hanoverian friends of yours and mine, and other friends of ours who are supposed to be over the water and unable to come back. Also, that arms were found in his cellar, and gunpowder under his bed! All this goes in at one ear and out at the other; but there's an ugly story about some royal warrants that were never served; and I can tell you for certain, a very great man holds your lordship to blame." "Because my cowardly servants wouldn't back me up, and I couldn't fight a score of men single-handed!" exclaimed Lord Bellinger indignantly. "Those were the very warrants that gaol-bird took out of my coach. I see the whole thing now, and how cleverly it was done! I'm in a false position, Harry, to say the least of it. The treason I don't so much mind; but I cannot bear to think I should have been so 'bit.' Harry! Harry! I shall be the laugh of the town!"