It was past mid-day when Sir John and William reached Gray's Inn, and, as their footsteps reached the ears of the watchful and anxious Susan, she flew down-stairs to meet them.

Already the fatal news had reached the girl's ears, but she was far too prudent a housewife and too loving a niece and sister to show her grief to men who had not dined, who were probably well-nigh spent with anxiety and need of bodily refreshment.

Therefore, without a word, Susan led the way into the dining-room, where food and wine had been prepared through her loving care.

Then, dismissing the servants, she said—

"I myself have dined, now let me wait on you. Do not speak, my dear uncle; alas, I know all, and presently we will confer together; but now refresh yourself, for I see indeed that you need it."

Sir John proceeded to obey his imperious housewife; yet, ere he sat himself at table, he embraced her affectionately and said—

"You little know, dear girl, how sage and prudent is your advice, for I must needs tell you that in half-an-hour two visitors will be here to whom I must give immediate audience, for they come on matters of life and death!"

"Oh, uncle, is poor Ralph's case so desperate?" cried Susan, with a terror-stricken face.

"God only knows," replied Sir John; "but if there be any help in man, they who now are on their way hither are surely sent by Heaven to bring us that help, for they are none other than the Cardinal and the Spanish Ambassador."

Susan's eyes sparkled with a sudden access of joy; yet she resumed her first insistence.

"Then you have but a few minutes wherein to refresh yourself, dear uncle, and I will not speak again, nor allow you to do so till you have eaten."

Sir John's serious face relaxed into a smile, and he proceeded to obey.

The minutes flew by, and soon Sir John's major-domo entered the room, after a discreet knock at the door.

"Two visitors await you in the library, Sir John. They did not give me their names, but they said they came by appointment."

Sir John rose at once.

"You will see that no one disturbs our conference in the library," he said to his servant. "And you, my children, await my return here; please God, I may have good news to bring you."

Then he proceeded to the library.

The two visitors stood near the great hearth, where a fire sparkled, for the morning was chilly. Hastening towards them, Sir John fell on one knee at the foot of the Cardinal, who, with a kindly smile, extended his hand towards him.

The Treasurer reverently kissed it.

Yet did he not kiss the hand of the great Churchman in his character of a Prince of the Roman Church, but rather because he saw in Reginald Pole a Plantagenet in whose veins ran royal blood. Then, rising, he warmly saluted the Ambassador, and at a courteous invitation from Sir John the three men took seats.

The Cardinal opened the conference.

"You are in trouble, Sir John, very grievous trouble, and there are many reasons why I should seek to bring you aid and comfort. I know from the Ambassador how great a service your two brave nephews have rendered to him, and when I saw them in Court to-day and marked their manly bearing, their evident mutual love, and the heroic loyalty of the condemned man as he cried 'God save the Queen,' I vowed to God that I would save him from the mutilating hand of the hangman and the pillory at Tyburn, if it lay in my power."

There was a deep compassion in the Cardinal's voice, and his noble face flushed with a generous excitement as he spoke.

He marked the unbidden tears which suffused Sir John's eyes, and grasping his hand he cried—

"Have faith in God, Sir John, and hope for the best! Now tell me all about the Chiddingly affair from your own point of view; I heard the Pursuivant's tale, but I would fain have it supplemented by yours: I would know the motives which actuated Ralph, and what accomplices he had.

Then tell me all about that heroic deed of rescue on the Thames. I would know the smallest detail of that gallant action, for therewith I trust to move the Queen's heart to mercy!"

Then, folding his purple cassock over his knees, the Cardinal leant back in his seat and prepared to listen.

With consummate skill Sir John performed his task, for which his legal training eminently fitted him. Thus half-an-hour swiftly flew by, and at the conclusion of the somewhat long narration the Ambassador spoke briefly.

"Sir John," he said, "I have an expedient in my mind which, perhaps, may win us through our enterprise if all other means fail. Your lads are born soldiers; why are you bent upon making such fine fellows lawyers? I wager that they are better hands with their rapiers than with their quills. I fancy that if the matter were left to their choice they would rather see camps and beleaguered cities than pass their lives in musty law-courts!

"Now to my point. King Philip is here to gain England's help in his war with France; he seeks to raise a strong English contingent, under Lords Pembroke and Clinton, which will proceed forthwith to join his army under the command of Count Egmont. Will your boys volunteer for that service if the Queen extend to them her gracious pardon?"

For a moment Sir John, taken utterly by surprise, kept silence; then he said—

"I would fain consult the boys themselves upon so momentous a point; or, at least, crave for time to consider it."

"Alas, my dear friend," replied Don Renard quickly, "the matter is very urgent. I must be prepared at all points when I see the King to-night. Moreover, do you not know that the machinery of the Star Chamber moves quickly, and it may be (which God forbid) that to-morrow our young friend Ralph may stand in the pillory at Tyburn. Think what may depend on your decision, and let me act on it, lest that should happen which we may have to regret all our lives."

"Remember also, Sir John," added the Cardinal, "that the military service of which the Ambassador speaks may be but of short duration; when the campaign is over, the lads may resume their legal studies if God spare their lives, and they so desire. As a matter of fact, am I not right in saying that you yourself have seen military service?"

"Yes, your Excellency, it is true," replied the Treasurer. "As a young man I did three years' duty at Calais and in Flanders, but I did not know that your Eminence was aware of the fact."

The Cardinal smiled and answered significantly—

"There are few circumstances connected with the family of the Jefferays which are unknown to those at Court."

Sir John put his hand upon his brow and pondered deeply. At length his mind seemed to be made up, and he replied—

"It is true that I cannot consult both the boys ere coming to a decision, and that delay may be fatal. I therefore take the responsibility upon myself, and I accept your Excellency's proposition; God grant that I have not to regret my action."

The Cardinal rose with a sigh of relief.

"Then that closes our conference. There is much to do between now and nightfall. To-night we see the Queen and King Philip, and the matter will be decided. Ere I seek my couch this night I will let you know the result. Farewell, my friend!"

Sir John, as before, sank reverently on one knee before him, and the good Cardinal, extending his hand, pronounced the benediction of the Church—the Ambassador kneeling likewise at Sir John's side.

Then the two illustrious visitors departed, Sir John himself going before them to the entrance gate of Gray's Inn.

The Treasurer returned to the library, and for a while sat in deep thought; he was greatly agitated, yet there was springing up in his heart a blessed feeling of hope!

After a while he rose, and, remembering his promise, went into the dining-room, where William and Susan sat anxiously awaiting him.

Susan flew to meet him.

"My dearest uncle," she cried, "you bring us good and comforting news, I can see it in your eyes."

Sir John stooped and kissed her fondly.

"Let us go into the library," he said; "we shall be undisturbed there, and I will tell you all."

There Sir John resumed his seat, and with Susan nestling fondly at his feet, and William standing at his side, he detailed the conversation which had passed between him and his visitors, omitting nothing. His eyes were closely fixed upon William as he came to the military proposition of the Ambassador.

William's face flushed scarlet, and his eyes flashed with evident joy.

"The Ambassador was right," he said within himself; "the boy is a born soldier; it is in the blood!"

Then aloud he said—

"Was I acting rightly when I accepted Don Renard's proposal?"

Instantly William flung himself at his uncle's knees with all affection and reverence, and seizing his hand, cried—

"I ask nothing better, it is my dearest heart's wish; and when I speak for myself I speak for Ralph also; I can answer for him."

"I thought so," replied the Treasurer, "but as far as Ralph is concerned (and he is chiefly concerned) I will go to the Fleet prison at once and learn his own decision."

But poor Susan was mute!

To be robbed of her two brothers at once, from whom she had never been long separated; to see them go forth to all the dangers of war; to think that she might never see them more, all this wrung her tender heart, and she began to sob gently.

But she was yet to bear another trial, for William, turning to his uncle as he prepared to go forth, said—

"One moment, uncle. Geoffrey de Fynes comes to London this day from Lewes on business of State. He longs for active service, and he is heartsick with his present mode of life.

"Let me hie to the Ambassador at once and propose that De Fynes's name be added to ours.

He will be here to-night, and I can vouch for him that he will rejoice to join us."

The Treasurer hesitated for a moment, then said—

"Yes, go, William, and at once. De Fynes is a brave man and true, I could not ask for a better comrade for my boys; I think it can be done."

Thereupon he left them, and William prepared to go also. A deep sigh from Susan, almost a groan was it, arrested his steps.

The poor girl had thrown herself upon a couch in an attitude of despair.

William knelt at her side.

"What is it, my dear one?" he said compassionately.

"Oh, William," Susan murmured, "was it not enough that I should lose my two brothers in one day that you must needs take my lover also?"

"What!" cried William, "is that so?—and yet you told me not?"

The poor girl blushed to the roots of her hair, amid all her sorrow, as she answered—

"We were betrothed last week, and this night he would have told you all; he comes to London on no State business: it was to ask my uncle's consent. And now," murmured the heart-stricken girl, "now I may lose him—lose him for ever!"

"Oh, Susan," said her brother, throwing his arms around her, "I knew not of this; and yet I might have guessed it when I saw that bright ring sparkling on your finger. I rejoice thereat greatly; now we shall be brothers indeed, Geoffrey and Ralph and I! Trust him to us, my dear one; we will watch over him as he will over us; we will bring him back to you by the blessing and help of God!"

But Susan wept bitterly, her heart refused comfort. And so with reluctant steps William left her; his errand to the Embassy must be done!

"God wills it, God wills it," he said to himself in the spirit of the old Crusaders as he set forth.