“’Tis anent all reason,” said Sir Francis Walsingham.
“Methinks, fair gentlemen, these argue more for its thorough investigation,” remarked the Earl of Sussex. “I will even avow, on my part, that, if it win credit from Sir Walter Raleigh, it will be credited by me.”
“Certes, the word of so loyal a gentleman deserves a fair inquiry,” observed the Queen, with a frown. “What sayst thou to it, my Lord Burleigh?”
“That the statement of Sir Walter Raleigh is true, my liege,” answered Burleigh.
The Queen looked surprised, and the councillors, on either side of the table, and Sir Walter Raleigh, also, turned a glance of inquiry on his venerable face.
“It is even so, my liege,” resumed Burleigh, after a pause. “A similar account, wherein fair mention was made of Sir Walter, was rendered me yesterday, by a person of high trust; and I had purposed to have reported it to your Highness to-day. Howbeit, when Sir Walter was summoned hither, methought I would first hear his testimony, and then leave it for the judgment of your Highness.”
“Enough, my Lord,” answered the Queen. “Let the prisoner be released incontinently. And my Lord Leicester,” she added, with a frown, “I may ask thee, in the words of Master Shakspear, ‘where be your gibes now?’ Go to! Thy counsel grows dull.”
With these cutting words, the Queen arose, and, bowing to the council, extended her arm to Sir Walter Raleigh. That personage, ever on the alert, attended her promptly, and, with her arm drawn through his, conducted her from the chamber.
Leicester sat still for a while, as if he were perfectly stupified. Then, resuming all his natural haughtiness, he abruptly rose, and passed out of the chamber. He never entered it again!
The council seemed to be taken by surprise at the final fall of the once powerful favourite. Their surprise, however, was but momentary; and when he was no longer in view, all thought of him or his fate appeared to have subsided.