“It cannot be avoided, for the reasons I have just stated,” replied Mounteagle. “But come, no more despondency. All will be well with you speedily. Let us drown care in a bumper. What ho! jailer,” he added, opening the door, “a cup of wine!”
In a few minutes, Ipgreve made his appearance, bearing two goblets filled with wine on a salver, one of which he presented to Mounteagle, and the other to Tresham.
“Here is to your speedy deliverance from captivity!” said Mounteagle, draining the goblet. “You will not refuse that pledge, Tresham?”
“Of a surety not,” replied the other. “To my speedy deliverance!”
And he emptied the cup, while Mounteagle and the jailer exchanged significant glances.
“And now, having fully discharged my errand, I must bid you farewell," said Mounteagle.
“You will not forget your promise?” observed Tresham.
“Assuredly not,” replied the other. “A week hence, and you will make no complaint against me.—Are you sure you did not give me the wrong goblet?” he added to Ipgreve, as they descended the spiral staircase.
“Quite sure, my lord,” returned the jailer, with a grim smile.
Mounteagle immediately quitted the Tower, and hastening to Whitehall, sought out the Earl of Salisbury, to whom he related what he had done. The Earl complimented him on his skilful management of the matter; and congratulating each other upon having got rid of a dangerous and now useless instrument, they separated.