Edward de Vere,
Earl of Oxford, died in June, 1604.

A strange study for a student of human nature is this Earl of Oxford--a
curious compound, like his late royal lady, of greatness and littleness.
He began life as a youthful exquisite. His costumes were more
extravagant, his perfumes more choice, his Italian more pure and fluent,
than those of the other dilettante nobles of his time. He was a minor
poet of some note in his day, and was esteemed to be the first writer of
comedy then living--though Shakespeare was living too. In middle life
he blossomed out into a military patriot. He ended his days as a hard,
cold, morose old man. His life-lamp was used up: it had been made so to
flare in early youth, that there was no oil left to light him at the
end, when light and warmth were most needed. Having quarrelled with his
father-in-law, the great Earl of Burleigh, he registered a savage and
senseless vow to "ruin his daughter," which he could do only by ruining
himself. In pursuance of this insane resolution, he spent right and
left, until his estate was wrecked, and the innocent Countess Anne was
hunted into her grave.

The son who succeeded to his father's title, and to the few acres which
this mad folly had not flung away, was a mere boy of twelve years old.
It became a serious question in Lady Louvaine's mind whether Aubrey
should remain in the household after the decease of the old Earl. She
found, however, that the widowed Countess Elizabeth kept a very orderly
house, and a strict hand over her son and his youthful companions, so
that Lady Louvaine, who saw no other door open, thought it best to leave
Aubrey where he was. The Countess, who had been Maid of Honour to Queen
Elizabeth, had been well drilled by that redoubtable lady into proper
and submissive behaviour; and she now required similar good conduct from
her dependants, with excellent reasons for absence or dereliction from
duty. That she was never deceived would be too much to say.

Meanwhile, matters progressed busily in the house by the river-side.
The conspirators took in a sixth accomplice--Christopher Wright, the
younger brother of John--and the six began their mine, about the
eleventh of December, 1604.

The wall of the House of Lords was three yards in thickness; the cellar
of Percy's house was extremely damp, being close to the river, and the
water continually oozed through into the mine. Finding their task more
difficult than they had