"Late last night I had a visitor, one who doesn't love me greatly. What does that matter? We row now in the same boat. I speak of the Duke of Buckingham."
"He is reconciled to my Lord Arlington by Madame's good offices," said I. For so the story ran in the Castle.
"Why, yes, he's reconciled to Arlington as the dog to the cat when their master is by. Now there's a thing that the Duke suspects; and there's another thing that he knows. He suspects that this treaty touches more than war with the Dutch; though that I hate, for war swallows the King's money like a well."
"Some passes the mouth of the well, if report speaks true," I observed.
"Peace, peace! Simon, the treaty touches more."
"A man need not be Duke nor Minister to suspect that," said I.
"Ah, you suspect? The King's religion?" she whispered.
I nodded; the secret was no surprise to me, though I had not known whether Buckingham were in it.
"And what does the Duke of Buckingham know?" I asked.