“My lord, I caught Raby’s servant, Shaxter, early in the evening, and, as you know, my Lady Crabtree and I soon found a way to make him confess that Henge had bribed him to change the packet that I gave to Raby for one that Henge had full of treasonable matter. Shaxter changed the packets when he helped his master to dress, just before he was arrested.” “Ay, arrested at the complaint of Henge, who came to me with every protest of loyalty; not that he deceived me,” Cromwell added, “but the papers found on Lord Raby did mightily confirm his words. I know how you brought the villain Shaxter to me when I had Raby at my house for private examination; it was a happy matter that I could at once release him, but how came this villain’s schemes to-night to miscarry so?” “His servants were all false to him,” Sir William answered, “and one of them sent us warning that he intended to carry off my niece, whom he has ever claimed as his affianced wife because of an old contract made when she was born. I know not yet which varlet of his did us this signal service.” Cromwell’s keen eyes alighted on Master Cross-Eyes, who sat leaning on the table, too badly hurt to rise, but overlooked in the tumult. “Ah, who is this?” asked the privy seal; “how many were in this affray?” Betty Carew came forward now and answered for her champion. “Sir,” she said eagerly, “but for that man I should scarcely have escaped so soon. He took my part, and fought with Henge in my behalf, and from my heart I thank him.” “Is it so?” exclaimed Cromwell, glancing in some surprise at the unpleasing aspect of the man; “what say you, knave, how came you to serve this lady?” Master Cross-Eyes looked up without any change in the sullen expression of his face. “The young mistress saved me from the hangman when yonder big-nosed woman would have put a halter on my neck,” he retorted bluntly, conscious that his night’s work would protect him; “and I sent the warning to Sir William, despatched my comrades, who hated Henge, for he was ever a hard master, full of blows and curses and slow to pay, and I stayed to protect Mistress Carew.” “By Saint Thomas, ’tis the valiant beggar that I had scourged at Wildrick!” cried old Madam; “may Heaven forgive me for it! You shall have a gold piece for every blow and more,” she added. “Here, Sir Leech, look to his wounds at my cost.” “His service has atoned his fault,” Cromwell said gravely; “but look you, varlet, being strong enough to fight and shrewd enough to catch a traitor, if you do not work henceforth, you shall hang at Tyburn.” “My lord,” interposed Raby, “he will be taken into my service for his lifetime, and that is not enough to pay the debt.” “Ay,” said Carew, “and he is like to make a better servant than the knave we have in jail, who served you as I foretold. My lord, you owe me the wager.” “It shall be paid,” Raby answered heartily; “yet do I think you never dreamed that he was as bad as he has proved.”