"We hear you were at Dover when his Majesty landed Master Rashcliffe, and that you impressed him favourably. It is better to be born lucky than rich, for, by my soul, his Majesty hath had so many hangers on since he entered his faithful London that none of us, save a very few of his chosen ones, can get more than a nod or a wave of his hand."
"I was indeed in Dover," I replied, "and a gay sight it was."
"The king spoke graciously to you, we heard."
"Ah, say not so, say not so. Corks will swim, and those whom the gods favour will obtain the smile of kings. We are even now here on an errand which, if it means not royal favour, is so near to it that a man can scarcely distinguish it from such."
Again I examined them closely, and tried to guess from whence they came and who sent them.
"Ah, but we have come here like a couple of grooms," the spokesman of the two went on. "But forgive us, Master Rashcliffe. Manners, like everything else, need constant practice, and since these Dissenters and Puritans have ruled the land, there hath been no opportunity of showing courtesy due from one gentleman to another. To such a state hath these rascally psalm-singing knaves brought us. Let me say, then, that the name of my friend here is the Honourable John Burleigh, youngest son of Lord Burleigh, while I am Stanley Carew, son of Sir William Carew, of Cornwall."
I bowed ceremoniously, even as they had done when they told me their names.
Upon this Master Stanley Carew looked around the room as though some one was in hiding; then, upon being assured that we were alone, he went on--
"We have come to you from one of royal blood, Master Rashcliffe, with royal commands."
"Nay, not from the king, that is exactly, but doubtless this letter will explain much to you."
I took the letter, and noted that the paper was emblazoned with the royal arms. It contained only these words: "_Master Roland Rashcliffe is commanded to appear before us to-night at Whitehall at the hour of eight._"
The signature I could not at first make out, but on closer scrutiny I discovered it to be signed by James, Duke of York. On lifting my eyes from the paper, I saw that both my visitors were looking eagerly towards me, as though they would make out what had been written to me, but, knowing so little of them, I folded the missive and put it beneath my doublet.