Cromwell stretched out his hand for the packet and broke the seals without waiting for further explanation from Lord Raby. He unfolded the wrappers and began to go through the papers without making any comment. Simon, watching his grave face, read nothing after the first quick flash of surprise. Of the nature of Carew’s communication, Raby was ignorant, but believing it to refer wholly to affairs in Devon, he did not greatly concern himself about it. His mind was but too actively engaged with the state of his own fortune. His arrest had been so sudden, so entirely without reason, that he found no immediate solution of his difficulty. He noticed that Cromwell, with all his apparent frankness, held back the full substance of the charge against him, and the names and condition of his accusers. Secure in his own innocence, Raby did not doubt his ultimate exculpation, but he knew not what course to pursue, whose name to mention, fearing to drag others into his misfortune. While these thoughts passed rapidly through his mind, Cromwell was deeply engaged in the perusal of Sir William’s packet; every paper was carefully examined and some were read twice over. Simon began to think that Carew’s business would indefinitely prolong his own suspense, when the king’s minister looked up. However, he did not address Raby; his face was inscrutable; he touched a bell upon the table and immediately an attendant replied to the summons. “Call Captain Ludlow,” he said calmly; then turning to Raby, he looked at him with cold eyes. “Sir,” he said, “you gave me the wrong packet.” Simon returned the look with surprise. “I had but the one, my lord,” he said. The officers had entered at Cromwell’s orders. “If you had but one, you did a strange thing to give it to me,” said my lord privy seal; then to the captain of the watch, “Ludlow, remove Lord Raby under strong guard to the Tower to await his examination.” Taken by surprise at the entire change in Cromwell’s manner, Simon was about to say that the papers were from Carew, when a second thought made him hesitate. If Sir William’s name was not upon them it would be strange indeed, and he did not wish to bring him under greater displeasure. “My lord,” he cried, “I pray you to remember that I was but the bearer of those papers; I am ignorant of their purport.” Cromwell’s face was both incredulous and unrelenting. “You are not the man to bear such papers ignorantly, Raby,” he said harshly; “who gave them to you?” Simon started; then Sir William’s name did not appear. A horrible doubt assailed him, but he was a man of stubborn loyalty to his friends. He closed his lips; if his silence could shelter Carew it was well, especially since he was groping in the dark. Cromwell, who had waited one impatient moment for his answer, smiled grimly. He had seen too many men turn traitors to feel amazement at the aspect of one.