The stranger waved his hand somewhat indignantly. "There was a man found, sir," he said, "to sell the blood of Christ himself for thirty pieces of silver; and therefore it can scarcely be considered as insulting to any of the sons of men to suppose that they would follow that example. I, however, do not trade in such things, and I require no reward whatsoever for that which I have done. I trust and see now that it will prove effectual, and I am perfectly satisfied. If these men fall into your hands by other means than mine, and incur the punishment they have justly deserved, I have not a word to say for them, but I have only to beseech you, sir, to separate the innocent from the guilty; to be careful--oh! most careful, in a moment of excitement and just indignation--not to confound the two, and to make a just distinction between fair and open enemies of your government, and base and treacherous assassins." "I shall strive to do so, sir," answered the King, "and would always rather lean towards mercy than cruelty. And now, as it grows late, I would fain know your name, and would gladly see you again." "My name, sir," replied the other, "must either be kept secret, or revealed to your Majesty alone. I have long been a nameless man, having lost all, and spent all, in behalf of that family opposed to your dynasty." "Who have, doubtless, shown you no gratitude," said William. "They have had no means, sir," replied the Jacobite, "and I have made no demand upon them." "It is but right, however," said the King, changing the subject, "that I should know your name. When I inquired who you were when we last met--the only time, indeed, we have met, till now--they gave me a name which I now see must have been a mistaken one. Do you object to give it before this gentleman?" "To give my real name, sir," replied the other, "I do. But I have no objection to give it to you yourself in private." "Leave us, Arnold," said the King; and Lord Albemarle immediately quitted the presence. CHAPTER XXII. The day which we have just seen terminate at Kensington we must now conduct to a close in another quarter, where events very nearly as much affecting the peace and safety of this realm, and far more affecting the peace of various personages mentioned in this history than the events which took place at the palace, were going on at the same time. It was a bright, clear, frosty day, with everything sparkling in the sunshine, the last dry leaves of the preceding year still lingering in many places on the branches of the trees, and clothing the form of nature in the russet livery of decay.