Continue, my Lord." My Lord looked a little displeased, pursing up his mouth, at the manner in which the King told the tale; but he said nothing on that point.
"Grove and Pickering, then, it appears, were to shoot His Majesty; and Wakeman to poison him--" ("They will take no risks you see, Mr.Mallock," put in the King.) "Yes, my Lord," said Tonge.

"They were to have screwed pistols, with silver bullets, champed, that the wounds may not heal." ("Prudent! prudent!" cried the King.) Then my Lord Danby lost his patience; and pushed the papers together with a sweep of his arm.
"Sir," he said, "I think we may let these worthy gentlemen go for the present, until the papers are examined." "With all my heart," said the King.

"But not Mr.Mallock.I wish to speak privately with Mr.Mallock." So the two were dismissed; but I noticed that the King did not give them his hand to kiss.

They appeared to me a pair of silly folks, rather than wicked as others thought them afterwards, who themselves partly believed, at any rate, the foolish tale that they told.

Mr.Kirby was a little man, as I have said, with a sparrow-like kind of air; and Doctor Tonge had no great distinction of any kind, except his look of foolishness.
When they were gone, my Lord Danby turned to the King, with a kind of indignation.
"Your Majesty may be pleased to make a mock of it all; but your loving subjects cannot.