Looking back as the barge swept away, Raby saw the tall white figure on the terrace and the fluttering of her handkerchief. The picture of the great stone house, the green slope of the terrace, and the beautiful girl waving him farewell, framed itself in his mind and was a solace to him in the months which followed. He was so light-hearted that he whistled to himself as the boat went on to London. The river was full of water-craft, and the scene was gay. The same river that had borne the unhappy Anne Boleyn to the Tower smiled in the sunshine and rippled gleefully from the strong strokes of the oars. Life was full of sweetness to Simon Raby, and he sat in the boat with a smiling face and a ready greeting for any chance acquaintance. In the afternoon he would go to my lord privy seal in person, now he had matters of his own to attend to. He must go to his haberdasher’s and his barber’s; he had a dozen errands, and presently found dust upon his clothes and went to his old lodgings to change them. Shaxter was with him as usual and helped him to make the change; he put on a rich suit of satin with a short cape of velvet, and bidding his attendant remain in his apartments until his return, made his way down the stairs alone and opened the street door. Looking out into the road, he saw no one, and came out humming a new song, popular at court. He had taken but two or three steps when three men stepped out from under an adjacent arched doorway. They barred his progress, and he looked in surprise to recognize the captain of the watch. “What now, Ludlow?” he said; “I need a little leeway to pass your company.” “My Lord Raby, you are arrested!” was the reply, as the officer laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder. Raby drew his sword. “You villain!” he said, “this will be a sorry jest for you.” “I arrest you in the king’s name,” repeated the captain, sharply; but so angry was Simon that for a moment they grappled, and the officer’s assistants were forced to take part in disarming the furious nobleman. “Of what avail is this resistance, my lord?” cried Ludlow. “I tell you, as your friend, you had best submit. I was ordered to take you and must, sorely against my will.” “Upon what charge?” demanded Raby, fiercely; “’tis an evil time if an innocent man may not walk safe upon the streets of London.” The captain shrugged his shoulders. He was a kindly, honest man, but he could only discharge his office. “I have the warrant for your arrest, my lord,” he answered soberly, “from my lord privy seal; but the reason of it?” he raised his brows, “you must ask the man who set the trap, not him who merely springs it. Verily, Lord Raby, I trust it may be no great matter, for your own sake. Mayhap you know well what folly brought it.” “Not I,” said Simon, angrily; “’tis an insult. Where are you taking me, Sir Captain?”