Mary waited, catching her breath.
"He," continued William, "hath tampered with His late Majesty."
The Queen gave a little sound of distress, and dropped her sewing.
"Shrewsbury!" she whispered.
"I have sure proof of it," said the King. "I am sorry for him," he added simply; "and for myself, it something moved me, for I ever liked my lord."
Mary flushed and clenched her hands on her lap.
"How base every one is," she cried, and the angry tears glittered in her eyes.
"There is not much honour in England, Marie. Have a care of all of them—particularly of that knave"—he spoke with strong force—"that villain, my Lord Marlborough——"
"Need he be of the Council?" she asked eagerly.
"Child, he is the best soldier in England, and if I was to leave you a Council of honest men they could not be of this nation—trust none of them."