"The Queen hath fled from her home and hath taken refuge in a Sanctuary for reason of her fear of Gloucester. The young King, her son, is in the power of the man from whom she hath fled. Catesby, who is evidently in the service of Richard, hath good reason for his belief that I warned the Queen and thus have been the cause of her taking refuge. Richard hath some scheme in hand, the object of which we know not. The death of Rivers, Grey and Vaughan, is evidently decided upon merely because they are friends to the Queen. Gloucester is bent on gaining possession of the King's little brother, for what purpose we know not. What chance then have I of escaping the tusks of the boar?" asked I, when I had finished this somewhat gloomy list of facts.
"My dear friend," replied Harleston, "however strange it may sound, I must say methinks thou hast naught to fear from Catesby's telling to Richard the part thou hast played in connection with the Queen's flight."
"Why?" I asked in surprise.
"For this reason," replied my friend, "Catesby was evidently instructed to prevent any messages from reaching the Queen, else why should he so question Michael, and, when speaking to himself, say that Richard would give him the devil when he should learn of the Queen's flight?"
"Well?" I asked, "and what hath that to do with removing the danger from me?"
"This," replied my friend in his quiet yet most impressive manner. "Thinkest thou that Catesby would dare to tell Gloucester that he did permit a common soldier to carry a message unto the Queen, when he should have prevented it? No," said he answering his own question, "it is more likely that he would attribute the warning to Dorset, over whom he could have no control, and therefore could not be blamed for allowing him to warn the Queen."
"That may be so," I cried. "And if it be, why then I still may wear my head; for if Catesby doth tell Richard I feel a tickling in the back of my neck which tells me it then must needs be severed."
"However," said Harleston, "thou art not by any means out of danger. Remember this," he continued; "some one must have warned Dorset. Catesby may suggest that thou wert the man which sent the news to him."
"Then the danger is as great as ever!" I cried in disappointment. "Come, come, Harleston, thou art becoming as bad as Michael, with thy surprises and disappointments. Why didst thou raise my hopes only to dash them again to earth and crush them like an egg?" This I said with a forced smile; for I tried to accept the inevitable with a philosophy that I was far from feeling.
"No," said my friend, with a grave face, "I think thy danger is not great; for though Catesby may cause Richard to suspect thee of being the cause of the Queen's flight, he cannot prove it without showing neglect of duty on his part."