"From the Duke of Monmouth!" she exclaimed.
He laughed. "Read it," he bade her again, though there was no need for the injunction, for already she was deciphering the crabbed hand and the atrocious spelling--for His Grace of Monmouth's education had been notoriously neglected. The letter, which was dated from The Hague, was addressed "To my good friend W., at Bridgwater." It began, "Sir," spoke of the imminent arrival of His Grace in the West, and gave certain instructions for the collection of arms and the work of preparing men for enlistment in his Cause, ending with protestations of His Grace's friendship and esteem.
Ruth read the epistle twice before its treasonable nature was made clear to her; before she understood the thing that was foreshadowed. Then she raised troubled eyes to her brother's face, and in answer to the question of her glance he made clear to her the shrewd means by which they had become possessed of this weapon that should destroy their enemy Mr. Wilding.
Blake and he, forewarned--he said not how--of the coming of this messenger, had lain in wait for him at the Hare and Hounds, at Taunton. They had sought at first to become possessed of the letter without violence. But, having failed in this through having aroused the messenger's suspicions, they had been forced to follow and attack him on a lonely stretch of road, where they had robbed him of the contents of his wallet. Richard added that the letter was, no doubt, one of several sent over by Monmouth to some friend at Lyme for distribution among his principal agents in the West. It was regrettable that they should have endeavoured to take gentle measures with the courier, as this had forewarned him, and he had apparently been led to remove the letter's outer wrapper--which, no doubt, bore Wilding's full name and address--against the chance of such an attack as they had made upon him. Nevertheless, as it was, that letter "to my good friend W.," backed by Richard's and Blake's evidence of the destination intended for it, would be more than enough to lay Mr. Wilding safely by the heels.
"I would to Heaven," he repeated in conclusion, "I could have come in time to save you from becoming his wife. But at least it is in my power to make you very speedily his widow."
"That," said Ruth, still retaining the letter, "is what you propose to do?"
"What else?"
She shook her head. "It must not be, Richard," she said. "I'll not consent to it."
Taken aback, he stared at her; then laughed unpleasantly. "Odds my life! Are you in love with the man? Have you been fooling us?"