“We mean to keep you by us, sir,” said Mr. Green on his other side, “until you have explained what you were doing with those papers--what is your interest in them.” Meanwhile a servant had done his lordship's bidding, and Mr. Caryll stood weaponless amid his enemies. He mastered himself at once. Here it was plain that he must walk with caution, for the ground, he perceived, was of a sudden grown most insecure and treacherous. Rotherby and Green in league! It gave him matter for much thought. “There's not the need to hold me,” said he quietly. “I am not likely to tire myself by violence. There's scarcely necessity for so much.” Rotherby looked up sharply. The cool, self-possessed tone had an intimidating note. But Mr. Green laughed maliciously, as he continued to mop his still watering eyes. He was acquainted with Mr. Caryll's methods, and knew that, probably, the more at ease he seemed, the less at ease he was. Rotherby spread the letters on the desk, and scanned them with a glowing eye, Mr. Green at his elbow reading with him. The countess swept forward that she, too, might inspect this find. “They'll serve their turn,” said her son, and added to Caryll: “And they'll help to hang you.” “No doubt you find me mentioned in them,” said Mr. Caryll. “Ay, sir,” snapped Green, “if not by name, at least as the messenger who is to explain that which the writers--the royal writer and the other--have out of prudence seen fit to exclude.” Hortensia looked up and across the room at that, a wild fear clutching at her heart. But Mr. Caryll laughed pleasantly, eyebrows raised as if in mild surprise. “The most excellent relations appear to prevail between you,” said he, looking from Rotherby to Green. “Are you, too, my lord, in the secretary's pay.” His lordship flushed darkly. “You'll clown it to the end,” he sneered. “And that's none so far off,” snarled Mr. Green, who since the peppering of his eyes, had flung aside his usual cherubic air. “Oh, you may sneer, sir,” he mocked the prisoner. “But we have you fast. This letter was brought hither by you, and this one was to have been carried hence by you.” “The latter, sir, was a matter for the future, and you can hardly prove what a man will do; so we'll let that pass. As for the former--the letter which you say I brought--you'll remember that you searched me at Maidstone--” “And I have your admission that the letter was upon you at the time,” roared the spy, interrupting him--“your admission in the presence of that lady, as she can be made to witness.” Mistress Winthrop rose. “'Tis a lie,” she said firmly. “I can not be made to witness.” Mr. Caryll smiled, and nodded across to her. “'Tis vastly kind in you, Mistress Winthrop. But the gentleman is mistook.” He turned to Green. “Harkee, sirrah did I admit that I had carried that letter?” Mr. Green shrugged. “You admitted that you carried a letter. What other letter should it have been but that?”