“We are informed, sir, of your antecedents,” he staggered Blake by answering. “We have learnt the reason why you left London and your creditors, and in all my life, sir, I have never known a man more ready to turn his hand to treason than a broken gamester. Your kind turns by instinct to such work as this, as a last resource for the mending of battered fortunes.”
Blake crimsoned from chin to brow. “I'm forejudged, it, seems,” he made answer haughtily, tossing his fair locks, his blue eyes glaring upon his judges. “May I, at least, know the name of my accuser?”
“You shall receive impartial justice at our hands,” put in Phelips, whose manner was of a dangerous mildness. “Depend on that. Not only shall you know the name of your accuser, but you shall be confronted by him. Meanwhile, sirs”—and his glance strayed from Blake's flushed and angry countenance to Richard's, pale and timid—“meanwhile, are we to understand that you deny the charge?”
“I have heard none as yet,” said Sir Rowland insolently.
Albemarle turned to one of the secretaries. “Read them the indictment,” said he, and sank back in his chair, his dull glance upon the prisoners, whilst the clerk in a droning voice read from a document which he took up. It impeached Sir Rowland Blake and Mr. Richard Westmacott of holding treasonable communication with James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, and of plotting against His Majesty's life and throne and the peace of His Majesty's realms.
Blake listened with unconcealed impatience to the farrago of legal phrases, and snorted contemptuously when the reading came to an end.
Albemarle looked at him darkly. “I do thank God,” said he, “that through Mr. Westmacott's folly has this hideous plot, this black and damnable treason, been brought to light in time to enable us to stamp out this fire ere it is well kindled. Have you aught to say, sir?”
“I have to say that the whole charge a foul and unfounded lie,” said Sir Rowland bluntly: “I never plotted in my life against anything but my own prosperity, nor against any man but myself.”
Albemarle smiled coldly at his colleagues, then turned to Westmacott. “And you, sir?” he said. “Are you as stubborn as your friend?”
“I incontinently deny the charge,” said Richard, and he contrived that his voice should ring bold and resolute.