his association with the Monmouth Cause - into which he had been
beguiled by the sordid hope of gain - and of Wilding's important
share in that same business. He was even moved to rise and ride that
very night for Exeter to betray to Albemarle the Cause itself, so that
he might have Wilding laid by the heels. But if Trenchard had been
right in having little faith in Richard's loyalty, he had, it seems,
in fearing treachery made the mistake of giving Richard credit for
more courage than was his endowment. For when, sitting up in bed,
fired by his inspiration, young Westmacott came to consider the
questions the Lord-Lieutenant of Devon would be likely to ask him, he
reflected that the answers he must return would so incriminate himself
that he would be risking his own neck in the betrayal. He flung
himself down again with a curse and a groan, and thought no more of
the salvation that might lie for him that way.

The morning of that last day of May found him pale and limp and all
a-tremble. He rose betimes and dressed, but stirred not from his
chamber till in the garden under his window he heard his sister's
voice, and that of Diana Horton, joined anon by a man's deeper tones,
which he recognized with a start as Blake's. What did the baronet
here so early? Assuredly it must concern the impending duel. Richard
knew no mawkishness on the score of eavesdropping. He stole to his
window and lent an ear, hut the voices were receding, and to his
vexation he caught nothing of what was said. He wondered how soon
Vallancey would come, and for what hour the encounter had been appointed.
Vallancey had remained behind at Scoresby Hall last night to make the
necessary arrangements with Trenchard, who was to act for Mr. Wilding.

Now it chanced that Trenchard and Wilding had business - business of
Monmouth's - to transact in Taunton that morning; business which