upon Babylon.

Mr. Blood heard that tale with the same indifference with which he had
received the news of Monmouth's death. But one shameful thing he heard
in connection with this which left him not quite so unmoved, and served
to nourish the contempt he was forming for King James. His Majesty had
consented to see Monmouth. To have done so unless he intended to pardon
him was a thing execrable and damnable beyond belief; for the only other
object in granting that interview could be the evilly mean satisfaction
of spurning the abject penitence of his unfortunate nephew.

Later they heard that Lord Grey, who after the Duke--indeed, perhaps,
before him--was the main leader of the rebellion, had purchased his own
pardon for forty thousand pounds. Peter Blood found this of a piece with
the rest. His contempt for King James blazed out at last.

"Why, here's a filthy mean creature to sit on a throne. If I had known
as much of him before as I know to-day, I don't doubt I should have
given cause to be where I am now." And then on a sudden thought: "And
where will Lord Gildoy be, do you suppose?" he asked.

Young Pitt, whom he addressed, turned towards him a face from which the
ruddy tan of the sea had faded almost completely during those months of
captivity. His grey eyes were round and questioning. Blood answered him.

"Sure, now, we've never seen his lordship since that day at
Oglethorpe's. And where are the other gentry that were taken?--the real
leaders of this plaguey rebellion. Grey's case explains their absence,
I think. They are wealthy men that can ransom themselves. Here awaiting
the gallows are none but the unfortunates who followed; those who had
the honour to lead them go free. It's a curious and instructive reversal
of the usual way of these things. Faith, it's an uncertain world
entirely!"

He laughed, and settled down into that spirit of scorn, wrapped in
which he stepped later into the great hall of Taunton Castle to take his
trial. With him went Pitt and the yeoman Baynes. The three of them were
to be tried together, and their case was to open the proceedings of that
ghastly day.

The hall, even to the galleries--thronged with spectators, most of whom
were ladies--was hung in scarlet; a pleasant conceit, this, of the Lord
Chief Justice's, who naturally enough preferred the colour that should
reflect his own bloody mind.

At the upper end, on a raised dais, sat the Lords Commissioners, the
five judges