For a moment he stopped still in the road, and he lifted his right hand above his head. Even in the dim light I noted his sturdy thick-set figure, his broad mouth, and his searching, yet kindly eyes.
"Is that what men are saying?" he asked presently, dropping his hand.
"It is common gossip," I replied.
"Men have it that Constance, daughter of John Leslie, together with her husband and father, plotted the murder of Monk, have they? Is that the talk in London town?"
"It is given out by General Monk himself," I replied. "It is told to the new king and his counsellors, and more it hath been proved by many witnesses. The wound in the arm of Monk's secretary is sufficient proof."
He stood still for a minute without speaking, then he said quietly—
"And have you heard aught concerning the probable fate of this maiden?"
"She is to be brought to London without delay after the king hath arrived thither, and then she is to be tried, condemned, and put to death. Men also have it that there is a warrant out against Sir Charles Denman and Master John Leslie."
"Perhaps it is the will of God," he said, presently. "The blood of the martyr hath ever been the seed of the Church of the living God."
"Martyr," I said, for something made me feel that this man knew much of these people. "Can the death of a woman who hath attempted murder be called martyrdom?"