"Treason!" curtly answered Lawrence.
"Soho! And assassination to follow—eh? The old parrot screech," he went on, as Lee nodded. "Some new plot to rid the world of our sacred presence. Is that it?"
"And of his Grace of York's, your majesty's august brother."
"Why, that of course," laughed Charles, casting a mischievous glance at a sombre-browed gentleman seated near his own chair; "for to a dead certainty no man in England would take my life to make thee king, James."
"Then," said the duke, accepting his brother's jest with a sullen smile, "if this young man is to be trusted—"
"Ay, ay, IF," chorused several of the impatient company. "There your grace hits the bull's-eye. IF."
"We are both doomed men," imperturbably concluded the duke. "And when," he added, addressing Lee, "is this to be?"
"Ten days hence. On your return from this place."
Charles wakes up.
"Ods-fish! So they would take us red hot in our pleasures, would they? The scurvy crew! and where, prithee?" demanded Charles.