The comptroller looked up, his lips trembling.
“My lord,” he said, “it can signify but one thing.”
“My assassination?”
“Without doubt, my lord.”
The Treasurer turned pale to the bare dome of his head. He had to the last hoped to have his worst apprehensions refuted; but it was plain that only one construction could be put upon the missive.
“How did it reach me?” he said dismally. “How did it get there?”
“Probably, my lord,” ventured the secretary, a sleek, apologetic man, “it was slipped into your lordship’s hand by one whom your lordship mistook for a chance importunate suitor, and your lordship accepted and pouched and forgot it.”
“It may have represented a threat or a friendly warning,” said the comptroller.
“Your lordship hath many and mighty enemies,” said the secretary, “as who hath not among the great and influential?”
“Your power, your imperious will, your favour in high places, my lord,” said the comptroller—“these be all incitements to the envious and unscrupulous. Without question there is some conspiracy formed against your life.”