“You conclude too hastily,” laughed Sir Walter.
“Monsieur, I do not conclude. I speak of what I am inform’.”
“Misinformed, sir. I am not a prisoner—at least, not yet,” he added, with a sigh. “I travel of my own free will to London with my good friend and kinsman Stukeley to lay the account of my voyage before the King.”
“Of your own free will? You travel of your own free will? And you are not a prisoner? Ha!” There was bitter mockery in De Chesne’s short laugh. “C’est bien drole!” And he explained: “Milord the Duke o Buckingham, he has write in his master’s name to the ambassador Gondomar that you are taken and held at the disposal of the King of Spain. Gondomar is to inform him whether King Philip wish that you be sent to Spain to essay the justice of his Catholic Majesty, or that you suffer here. Meanwhile your quarters are being made ready in the Tower. Yet you tell me you are not prisoner! You go of your own free will to London. Sir Walter, do not be deceive’. If you reach London, you are lost.”
Now here was news to shatter Sir Walter’s last illusion. Yet desperately he clung to the fragments of it. The envoy’s secretary must be at fault.
“’Tis yourself are at fault, Sir Walter, in that you trust those about you,” the Frenchman insisted.
Sir Walter stared at him, frowning. “D’ye mean Stukeley?” quoth he, half-indignant already at the mere suggestion.
“Sir Lewis, he is your kinsman.” De Chesne shrugged. “You should know your family better than I. But who is this Manourie who accompanies you? Where is he come from? What you know of him?”
Sir Walter confessed that he knew nothing.
“But I know much. He is a fellow of evil reputation. A spy who does not scruple to sell his own people. And I know that letters of commission from the Privy Council for your arrest were give’ to him in London ten days ago. Whether those letters were to himself, or he was just the messenger to another, imports nothing. The fact is everything. The warrant against you exists, and it is in the hands of one or another of those that accompany you. I say no more. As I have tol’ you, you should know your own family. But of this be sure, they mean that you go to the Tower, and so to your death. And now, Sir Walter, if I show you the disease I also bring the remedy. I am command’ by my master to offer you a French barque which is in the Thames, and a safe conduct to the Governor of Calais. In France you will find safety and honour, as your worth deserve’.”