"He shall not forget me," said Sir Payan. "Mark me, lord duke: you wisely deem, that because you have not shown me your daring schemes in your hand-writing, you are safe, but you have yet to know Sir Payan Wileton. We shall see, lord duke! we shall see! So, farewell!" and turning on his heel, he left the duke's closet, called for his horse, and in a few minutes was far on the road homeward.
"Guilford," cried he, turning towards his attendants, "Guilford, ride up."
At this order, a downcast, sneering-looking man drew out from the rest of the servants and rode up to the side of his master, who fixed his eyes upon him for a moment, shutting his teeth hard, as was his custom when considering how to proceed. "Guilford," said he at last, "Guilford, you remember the infant that was found dead in Ashford ditch last year, that folks supposed to be the child of Mary Bly----? ha!" The man turned deadly pale. "I have found an owner for the kerchief in which it was tied with the two large stones," proceeded Sir Payan. "A man came to me yesterday morning, who says he can swear to the kerchief, and who it belonged to. Fie! do not shake so! Do you think I ever hurt my own? Guilford, you must do me a service. Take three stout fellows with you, on whom you can depend; cast off your liveries, and ride on with all speed to the hill on this side of Rochester. Wait there till you see a courier come up with a swan embroidered on his sleeve; find means to quarrel with him; and when you return to Elham Manor, if you bear his bag with you, you shall each have five George nobles for your reward. But leave not the place. Stir not till you have met with him. And now be quick; take the three men with you; there will be enough left to return with me. Mark me! let him not escape with his bag, for if you do, you buy yourself a halter."
"Which of them shall I take?" said the man. "There are Wandlesham and Black John, who together stole the Prior of Merton's horse, and sold it at Sandwich. They would have been burned i' the hand if your worship had not refused the evidence. Then there is Simpkin, the deer-stealer----"
"That will do," said Sir Payan, "that will do; 'tis said he set Raper's barn on fire. But be quick; we waste time."
It was late the next day before the party of worthies whom Sir Payan entrusted with the honourable little commission above stated returned to his house at Elham Manor; but, to his no small satisfaction, they brought the Duke of Buckingham's letter-bag along with them, which Master Guilford deposited on the table before Sir Payan in his usual sullen manner, and only waited till he had received his reward, which was instantly paid; for the honest knight, well knowing by internal conviction that rascality is but a flimsy bond of attachment, took care to bind his serviceable agents to himself by the sure ties both of hope and fear. If they were useful and silent, their hopes were never disappointed; if they were negligent or indiscreet, their fears were more than realised.
The moment he was alone, the knight put his dagger into the bag, and ripped it open from side to side. This done, his eye ran eagerly over the various letters it contained, and paused on that to Lord Fitzbernard. In an instant the silk was cut, and the contents before his eyes.
"Ha!" said Sir Payan, reading; "so here it is, the whole business; so, so, my young knight, 'the real name to be told to nobody till the king's good-will is gained.' But I will foil you, and blast your false name before your real one is known. Good Duke of Buckingham, I thank you! 'A villain!' If I am, you shall taste my villany. Oh! so he had charge to 'conduct the Lady Katrine Bulmer to the court: his feats of arms and manly daring shall much approve him with the king.' Ay, but they shall damn him with the cardinal, or I'll halt for it! Now for the rest!"
With as little ceremony as that which he had displayed toward the letter addressed to Lord Fitzbernard, Sir Payan tore open all the rest, but seemed somewhat disappointed at their contents, gnawing his lip and knitting his brow till he came to the last, addressed to Sir John Morton. "Ha!" exclaimed he, as he read, "Duke of Buckingham, you are mine! Now, proud Edward Bohun, stoop! stoop! for out of so little a thing as this will I work thy ruin. But what means he by this? Sir Osborne Maurice! It cannot be him he speaks of. It matters not; it shall tell well, too, and in one ruin involve them both. Sir Osborne Maurice! I have it! I have it! Sure the disclosure of such a plot as this may well merit Wolsey's thanks; ay, and even, by good favour, some few acres off the broad estates of Constance de Grey. We shall see. But first let us track this young gallant; we must know his every step from Canterbury to Greenwich."
Proud in supreme villany, Sir Payan trod with a longer stride, confidently calculating that he held all his enemies in his power; but, subtle as well as bold, he did not allow his confidence to diminish in the least his care; and calling to his aid one of his retainers, upon whose cunning he could count with certainty, he laid him upon the path of our hero like a hound upon the track of a deer, with commands to investigate, with the most minute care, every step he had taken from Canterbury to Greenwich.