“Rise up, Mr Winter!” he cried excitedly. “Rise and come along to Essex House, for I am going to call upon my Lord Northumberland. The matter is discovered, by a letter to my Lord Monteagle.”
Thomas Winter sat up in his bed.
“Go back, Mr Wright,” said he, “and learn what you can about Essex Gate.”
Off dashed Christopher, and Winter dressed hastily. He was scarcely ready when his friend returned.
“Surely, all is lost!” cried Wright, “for Leyton is got on horseback at Essex door, and as he ’parted, he asked if their Lordships would have any more with him, and being answered ‘No,’ is rode as fast up Fleet Street as he can ride.”
“Go you, then, to Mr Percy,” urged Winter, “for sure it is for him they seek, and bid him be gone. I will stay and see the uttermost.”
Away went Wright again, and Winter followed more slowly. He found the Court gates “straitly guarded,” so that he was not allowed to enter. Then he turned and went down towards the Houses of Parliament, and in the middle of King Street he found the guard standing, who would not let him pass. As Winter passed up King Street again, Silence Abbott came out of her door, having just published herself for the day, and accosted Rachel, who was busy with the doorsteps.
“Why, whatever’s all this to-do?” said she, in considerable dismay. Had she been wasting daylight and precious material for gossip, by lying in bed half-an-hour longer than usual?
“Why, there’s a treason discovered,” said Rachel, wringing out her flannel.
“Lack-a-day! what manner of treason?”