When I knocked at the gate, I scarcely knew what to think of the place, and began to fear you must have fallen into the hands of cut-throats; and, now that I have gained admittance, my wonder--and I may add my uneasiness--is not diminished.

Why do you hide yourself in this wretched place ?" "Be seated," replied Tresham, placing a chair for Lord Mounteagle, with his back to the closet, while he took one opposite him, and near a table, on which some papers were laid.

"Your lordship may remember," he continued, scarcely knowing what answer to make to the question, "that I wrote to you some time ago, to say that a conspiracy was hatching among certain of our party against the State." "I have reason to remember it," replied Mounteagle.

"The letter was laid before the Earl of Salisbury, and inquiries instituted in consequence.
But, owing to your disappearance, nothing could be elicited.

What plot had you discovered ?" At this moment, Tresham, who kept his eye fixed on the closet, perceived the door noiselessly open, and behind it the figure of Guy Fawkes, with the dagger in his hand.
"I was misinformed as to the nature of the plot," he stammered.
"Was it against the King's life ?" demanded Mounteagle.
"No," rejoined Tresham; "as far as I could learn, it was an insurrection." "Indeed!" exclaimed Mounteagle, sceptically.