He hesitated here, and looked towards me as if he expected me to speak, but I held my peace, for I knew he was only at the beginning of his story. "Do you not know the rest?" he asked. "No," I replied, "I know nothing." He heaved a sigh like one well satisfied. "Ah, thou art a simple youth, after all," he said; "thou knowest nought of what hath been taking place." "Well, tell me," I said sharply, for I grew impatient at his slowness. "Oh yes, I will tell thee. It is a part of the bargain, and I will tell thee. When it was known that General Monk seemed to favour the coming of the new king, Master Leslie, Sir Charles Denman, and his wife conceived a scheme for the murdering of Monk. They believed they would be doing good service. They knew that if Charles came back, in spite of all the promises he might make, it would go hard with those who took part in the death of the new king's father. The question was, who was to do the deed? The presence of Master Leslie or Sir Charles Denman, men known to hate the royalty, would destroy any chance of success. So they settled upon the wife of Sir Charles, whose person was unknown either to Monk or his retainers. Well, the plan was carried out, Master Roland; that is, the attempt was made. The woman, never dreaming of disobeying her husband and also mad with fear as to what should take place if Charles Stuart came back, attempted the deed. If Monk was killed, Lambert would have power--you follow, Master Roland? Oh, it was not a bad plan, and had it succeeded--well, methinks there would not be at this moment a gaping crowd waiting to welcome another Stuart. But it did not succeed--that is, not fully. Mark you, she did succeed in reaching the room where Monk lay asleep. She stabbed young James Carew, who acted as Monk's secretary, ay, and so badly that he hath not yet recovered; but Monk awoke before she was able to harm him much. Oh, but she made a desperate fight. She wounded Monk in the arm, and fled. Moreover, so cleverly had she arranged everything that she managed to escape, and although every attempt hath been made, she hath not yet been captured." "But how dare she ride abroad?" I cried. "That woman would dare anything," cried the old man. "Besides, Monk described a woman different from the beautiful Constance. You see, she had taken steps to alter her appearance before she attempted the deed. Nevertheless, the thing hath been traced to her. Master John Leslie is even now in disgrace, while spies be everywhere trying to track down Sir Charles Denman and his wife. Not that guilt hath been proved against Sir Charles on that count, nevertheless his life is not worth ten groats." "But how dare he ride to the _Barley Sheaf_ while it was yet daylight?" I cried. "I saw him myself." "Sir Charles hath many friends; besides, what kind of man did you see?" "A tall strong man with an iron-grey beard and a grey ashen countenance; one who speaks with a rough harsh voice."