But the Judge was beside himself with fury, and Captain Protheroe had hardly escaped immediate arrest, had not the secretary stepped quickly forward and whispered a few words in his master's ear. At first he could gain no attention, but gradually the storm subsided, the judge's fury wavered before the calm indifference of the soldier, and after a moment's silence he submitted sulkily to his secretary's persuasion.
"Well! Well! Jewars. I will hear him," he muttered. "Look you, sir, say clearly what has brought you here. You claim to have information to give. What is it? What have you to offer?"
"Two letters, my lord."
"Letters!" The judge started forward, grasping the table with his hands, his eyes glaring at the officer. "Letters, say you?"
"Aye, my lord," answered the officer nonchalantly. "Certain letters of your lordship's own hand, which have come into my possession. They are, I venture to believe, a most sufficient guarantee for my trust in your clemency."
Jeffreys dropped his hands and fell back into his chair, his eyes fixed on the speaker with horrible intensity. His fingers moved nervously and his lips twitched. Jewars touched him on the shoulder, and with a start he recovered himself.
"Show me the letters!" he snarled abruptly.
Captain Protheroe drew the papers from his breast, and handed them across the table. He was purposely deliberate in his movements, revelling in the anxiety of the judge's face.
There was a dead silence in the room while Judge Jeffreys perused the letters. He bent his head low over the paper, therefore his face was hidden from the officer, who waited breathless for the pronouncement upon the contents.
At length after a long pause, the judge raised his head.