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.  I have permission then to examine these papers, and report to Your Majesty?”

“Why, yes,” said the King, “so you do not inflict the forty-three heads upon me.  I have one of my own which I must care for.”

My Lord said no more; he gathered his papers without a word, saluted the King at a distance, still without speaking, and went out, giving me a sharp glance as he went.

“Now, Mr. Mallock,” said His Majesty, “sit you down and listen to me.”

I sat down; but I was all bewildered as to why I had been sent for.  What had I to do with such affairs as these?

“Do you know of a man called Grove?” the King asked me suddenly.

Now the name had meant nothing to me when I had heard it just now; but when it was put to me in this way I remembered.  I was about to speak, when he spoke again.

“Or Pickering?” he said.

“Sir; a man called Grove is known to me; but no Pickering.”

“Ha! then there is a man called Grove—­if it be the same.  He is a Papist?”

“Sir, he is a lay-brother of the Society of Jesus, and dwells—­”

The King held up his hand.

“I wish to know nothing more than I am obliged.  Pickering is some sort of Religious, too, they tell me.  And what kind of a man is Grove?”

“He is a modest kind of man, Sir.  He opened the door to me, and I saw him a-laying of the table for dinner.  I know no more of him than that.”

Then the King drew himself up in his chair suddenly, as I had seen him do before, and his mocking manner left him.  It was as if another man sat there.

“Mr. Mallock,” he said, shaking his finger at me with great solemnity, “listen to me.  I had thought for a long time that an attempt would be made against the Catholics.  There is a great deal of feeling in the country, now that my brother is one of them, and I myself am known not to be disinclined towards them.  And I make no doubt at all that this is such an attempt.  They have begun with