Produced by Al Haines. [Illustration: Cover art] [Illustration: "AS HE FLEW BY HE AIMED A SAVAGE BLOW AT ME" (Page 217)] *The Black Box* A Tale of Monmouth’s Rebellion BY *W. BOURNE COOKE* Author of "Madam Domino" "Bellcroft Priory" "The Cragsmen" &c. _Illustrated by John de Walton_ BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY TO MY FRIEND WILL TURNER OF "OXHOLME" EDWALTON NOTTS *Contents* Prologue CHAP. I. Concerning "A Certain Person" II. The Secret of the Black Box III. Up a Tree IV. Three Ships V. The Man with the King’s Evil VI. "Too Late" VII. The Plotters VIII. A Fight for Life IX. The Shadow of Death X. I Make a Solemn Vow XI. I Live and Learn XII. How I was Saved from Rashness XIII. In the Great Room--and Afterwards XIV. "Zion!" XV. Tells how I Fleshed my Sword XVI. Concerning one Dan Foe--a Friend in Need XVII. Tells how I had Speech of Ferguson XVIII. A Timely Warning XIX. The Affair at the Barn XX. At Sedgemoor Fight XXI. I leave the Service of King James XXII. In which I become a Prisoner XXIII. "The Scourge of the West" XXIV. Beneath the Gallows *Illustrations* "As he flew by he aimed a savage blow at me" Frontispiece The Landing of the Duke of Monmouth "Then such a fight began as makes me shudder when I think upon it" "’How now! How came you by that horse?’" Michael Fane before Judge Jeffreys *THE BLACK BOX* *Prologue* My friends, beware of slim-legged, nimble-footed, white-faced men, in sober grey, who tell long tales! They make for mischief. Nor do I warn you without reason; for of such an one I reaped great trouble. It was in the cool of a still June evening, as I rode leisurely among these pleasant Dorset lanes of ours, that I came upon him sitting on the roadside, beneath a larch tree, hugging his bony knees and muttering like a soothsayer. His hat--an ancient, greasy thing--lay on the ground beside him; his grizzled hair seemed to grow upright on a strange-shaped head which ran into a veritable peak towards the centre; while his face was so lined and bloodless that it looked for all the world like crinkled parchment. As for his small, pale eyes, they rose and fell beneath a pair of quivering lids which kept time with his lips.