akable note of righteousness which somehow rang through Lambert's
voice.

"Nay! but I'll not be silent," quoth Richard unperturbed. "I have been
condemned ... and I have the right to speak.... You have disgraced me
... and I have the right to defend mine honor ... by protesting mine
innocence.... And now I will leave this house," he added loudly and
firmly, "for it is accursed and infamous ... but God is my witness that
I leave it without a stain upon my soul...."

He pointed to the fateful table whereon a pile of gold lay scattered in
an untidy heap, with the tiny leather wallet containing his five guineas
conspicuously in its midst.

"There lies the money," he said, speaking directly to Segrave, "take it,
sir, for I had never the intention to touch a penny of it.... This I
swear by all that I hold most sacred.... Take it without fear or
remorse--even though you thought such evil things of me ... and let him
who still thinks me a thief, repeat it now to my face--an he dare!"

Even as the last of his loudly uttered words resounded through the room,
there was a loud knock at the door, and a peremptory voice commanded:

"Open! in the name of His Highness, the Lord Protector of England!"

In the dead silence that followed, the buzz of a fly, the spluttering of
wax candles, could be distinctly heard.

In a moment with the sound of that peremptory call outside, tumultuous
passions seemed to sink to rest, every cheek paled, and masculine hands
instinctively sought the handles of swords whilst lace handkerchiefs
were hastily pressed to trembling lips, in order to smother the cry of
terror which had risen to feminine throats.

"Open! in the name of His Highness, the Lord Protector of England."

Mistress Endicott was the color of wax, her husband was gripping her
wrist with a clutch of steel, trying, through the administration of
physical pain, to keep alive her presence of mind.

And for the third time came the loud summons:

"Open! in the name of His Highness the Lord, Protector of England!"

Still that deathly silence in the room, broken only now by the firm step
of Endicott, who went to open the door.

Resistance had been worse than useless. The door would have yielded at
the first blow. There was a wailing, smothered cry from a dozen
terrified throats, and a general rush for the inner room. But this door
now was bolted and barred, Sir Marmaduke--unperceived--had slipped
quickly within, even whilst everyone hel