I could see that his face was very pale and that he seemed greatly agitated. When I was seated, he sat himself down at his table a little way off. "This is a terrible affair," he said, "and I do not know--" "For God's sake," I whispered suddenly, "tell me what I am charged with." He looked up at me sharply. "You do not know, Mr. Mallock?" "Before God," I said, "I have no more idea what the pother is about than--" "Well, shortly," he said, "it is treason." "Treason! Why--" He leaned forward and took up a pen, to play with as be talked. "I will tell you the whole thing from the beginning," he said. "You must have patience. An hour ago a clerk came to me here from the Board of the Green Cloth to tell me that the magistrates desired my presence there immediately on a matter of the highest importance. I went there directly and found three or four of them there, with Sir George Jeffreys whom they had sent for, it seemed, as they did not know what course to pursue, and had thought perhaps that I might throw some light upon it. They were very grave indeed, and presently mentioned your name, saying that a charge had been laid against you before one of the Westminster magistrates, of having been privy to the Ryehouse Plot." "Why--" cried I, with sudden relief. He held up his hand. "Wait," he said, "I too laughed when I heard that; and gave them to understand on what side you had been throughout that matter, and how you had been in His Majesty's service and that I myself was privy to every detail of the affair. They looked more easy at that; and I thought that all was over. But they asked me to look at papers they had of yours--" "Papers! Of mine!" I cried. "Yes, Mr. Mallock. Papers of yours. I will tell you presently how they came by them. Well; there were about a dozen, I suppose, altogether; and some of them I knew all about, and said so. These were notes and reports that you had shewed to me: and there were three or four more which, though I had not seen them I could answer for. But there was one, Mr. Mallock, that I could not understand at all." He paused and looked at me; and I could see that he was uneasy. Now it may appear incredible; but even then I could not think of what paper he meant. To the best of my belief I had shewn him everything that I thought to be of the least importance--notes and reports, as he had said, such as was that which I had made in the wherry on my way up from Wapping one night. I shook my head. "I do not know what you mean," I said. "Where did they get the papers from?" "Think again, Mr. Mallock. I said it was on a charge of treason just now. Well: I will say now that it may be no more than misprision of treason." Still I had no suspicion. I was thinking still, I suppose, of my lodgings here in Whitehall and of a few papers I had there. "You must tell me," I said. "Mr. Mallock," he said, "this paper I speak of was in cypher. It contained--" "Lord!" I cried. "Cousin Tom!--"