"I mean," she answered, in clear low tones, "that there is peril for Trevlyn in this thing. Thine own rashness, Miriam's spite and quickness of wit to avail herself of every trifling matter that passes, the presence in London of Sir Richard and his son at this time, the old tradition surrounding the name of Trevlyn--all are helping on the work; all are pointing in one direction. Rash boy, thou hast been seen with Father Urban in the streets--a Jesuit, a seminary priest, a man suspected of many plots and many daring acts of courage and cunning. Thou art suspected to have been concerned in his escape one dark and foggy night, when thou wert on the river in thy wherry; and he must have been taken on board some such craft. Thou hast been seen with others who are suspected of being mixed up in this business. Thou hast appeared within the city walls when they appeared; when they were absent thou wast absent likewise. Thou wouldst not heed warnings when yet there was time; thou must now take double heed to thy steps--" "Thou spokest of Sir Richard and his son but now," cried Cuthbert, interrupting hastily. "For myself, I must take the consequences of my rashness. The fault is mine, and if harm comes to me I can bear it; but if others have been imperilled through me, I should never forgive myself. Tell me plainly if this has been so; keep me not in suspense! How can one word be breathed against the loyalty of a man faithful and true as Sir Richard, and a stanch Protestant to boot?" The old woman shook her head meaningly.