by Mr. Richard Westmacott, and
I will confine myself strictly to those matters on which my testimony
can be corroborated by that of other witnesses."

Colonel Luttrell interrupted him to turn to Richard. "Do you recall
those expressions, sir?" he asked him.

Richard winced under the question. Nevertheless, he braced himself to
make the best defence he could. "I have not yet heard," said he, "what
those expressions were; nor when I hear them must it follow that I
recognize them as my own. I must admit to having taken more wine,
perhaps, than... than..." Whilst he sought the expression that he needed
Trenchard cut in with a laugh. "In vino veritas, gentlemen," and
His Grace and Sir Edward nodded sagely; Luttrell preserved a stolid
exterior. He seemed less prone than his colleagues to forejudging.

"Will you repeat the expressions used by Mr. Westmacott?" Sir Edward
begged.

"I will repeat the one that, to my mind, matters most." Mr. Westmacott,
getting to his feet and in a loud voice, exclaimed, "God save the
Protestant Duke!"

"Do you admit it, sir?" thundered Albemarle, his eyes glowering upon
Richard hesitated a moment, pale and trembling.

"You will waste breath in denying it," said Trenchard suavely, "for I
have a drawer from the Bell Inn, and two gentlemen who overheard you
waiting outside."

"I'faith, sir," cried Blake, "what treason was therein that? If he..."

"Silence!" thundered Albemarle. "Let Mr. Westmacott speak for himself."

Richard, inspired by the defence Blake had begun, took the same line of
argument. "I admit that in the heat of wine I may have used such words,"
said he. "But I deny their intent to be treasonable. There are many men
who drink to the prosperity of the late Kings's son..."

"Natural son, sir; natural son," Albemarle amended. "It is treason to
speak of him otherwise."

"It will be a treason presently to draw breath," sneered Blake.

"If it be," said Trenchard, "it is a treason you'll not be long
committing."

"Faith, you are right, Mr. Trenchard," said the Duke with a laugh.
Indeed, he found Mr. Trenchard a most pleasant and facetious gentleman.

"Still," insisted Richard, endeavouring in spite of these irrelevancies
to make good his point, "there be many men who drink daily to the
prosperity of the late King's natural son."

"Aye, sir," answered Albemarle; "but not his prosperity in horrid plots
against the life of our beloved sovereign."

"True, Your Grace; very tr