"I was induced," my lord said doggedly, "to give the villain a meeting. And learned, sir, partly from him, and partly from this man here"--this more freely--"enough to corroborate the main particulars of Mr. Prendergast's story." "Ah?" said the King. "Good. And the particulars?" "That Sir George Barclay, the person mentioned by Mr. Prendergast, is giving nightly rendezvous in Covent Garden to persons mainly from France, who are being formed by him into a band; the design, as stated by Prendergast, to fall on your Majesty's person in the lane between Fulham Green and the river on your returning from hunting." "Does he agree as to the names?" the King asked, looking at me. "He knows no names, sir," the Duke answered, "but he saw a number of the conspirators at the Seven Stars in Covent Garden last night, and heard them speak openly of a hunting party; with other things pointing the same way." "Was Barclay there?" "He can speak to a person who I think can be identified as Barclay," my lord answered. "He cannot speak to Charnock----" "That is the Oxford man?" "Yes, sir--or Porter, or King; or the others by those names. But he can speak to two of them under the names by which Prendergast said that they were passing." "_C'est tout!_ Well, it does not seem to me to be so simple!" the King said with a touch of impatience. "What is this person's name, and who is he?" The Duke told him that I had been Ferguson's tool. "That rogue is in it then?" "He is privy to it," the Duke answered. His Majesty shrugged his shoulders, as if the answer annoyed him. "You English draw fine distinctions," he said. "Whatever you do, however, let us have no repetition of the Lancashire fiasco. You will bear that in mind, my lord, if you please. Another of Taafe's pseudo plots would do us more harm in the country than the loss of a battle in Flanders. Faugh! we have knaves at home, but you have a breed here--your Oates's and your Taafes and your Fullers--for whom breaking on the wheel is too good!" "There are rogues, sir, in all countries," my lord answered somewhat tartly. "I do not know that we have a monopoly of them." "The Duke of Shrewsbury is right there, sir," the gentleman behind the King who had not yet spoken, struck in, in a good-natured tone. "They are things of which there is no scarcity anywhere. I remember----" "_Taisez! Taisez!_" cried the King brusquely, cutting short his reminiscences--whereat the gentleman, smiling imperturbably, took snuff. "Tell me this. Is Sir John Fenwick implicated?" "There may be evidence against him," my lord answered cautiously.