Very soon thereafter Stanley came in. Approaching the dais, he knelt upon the lower step, touching with his lips the indifferent and cold hand extended to him.

"My lord of Stanley," said the King, "fetch yonder stool and dispose thyself beside our knee. We would have speech of thee​—​and council." Then, to the attendant waiting near the entrance, "Ralston," he ordered tersely, "we would have it known that we will brook no interruption till this conference be ended. But hold! do thou lay commands upon lords Oxford and de Vere, and Sir Richard Rohan, to be ready and waiting against our present summons. Thou mayst go, Ralston."

Silently the attendant withdrew. Folding his arms and looking steadily into Lord Stanley's eyes, the King resumed.

"Now, Stanley, to the business in hand. From what source hast thou drawn thy information that secret emissaries are at this moment on their way hither to acquaint Sir Richard of the facts concerning his noble lineage?"

"Are they then facts, my liege?" queried Stanley, his arched eyebrows plainly evidencing his surprise. "Is it indeed true that this youthful, fair-haired upstart may lay a true and proper claim to the title of Earl of Warwick, and, through that title, a seat upon this very throne?"

"Presume not upon our indulgence, Lord Stanley," warned the King in a menacing tone. "Thou hast met question with question. Now, my lord, the source of thy information."

"I crave thy pardon, liege," Stanley hastened to return. "Full well thou knowest, august highness, that every foul rebellion doth breed its fouler traitors. From these coward turn-coats have I stumbled upon this knowledge. The information thus gained I have supplemented and verified with that gleaned by thine own honest and tireless servants. 'Tis, I fear me much, unimpeachable."

"But under God's heaven, Stanley, how came these rag-tag rebels upon the facts as to Rohan's lineage? Marry, my lord, methought 'twas hidden as though sunken within the very entrails of the earth."

"Through one Michael Lidcote, a captain of ship in Duke Francis's fleet. The same, I'll swear, who brought thee to England at Milford Haven," Lord Stanley explained. "'Twas done, I hear, out of a certain love for the young knight, and a desire to witness his elevation to his​—​true position."

For a considerable space thereafter the King remained silent, his chin resting upon the fingers of his clasped hands, his pale blue eyes gazing straight ahead of him into space. In retrospect, his mind had turned to the contemplation of some happy days in sunny Brittany when he and Sir Richard were being reared and disciplined together beneath the eye of the stern but kind old Duke. The images materialized must have been pleasing to him, for the hard lines of his face softened into the semblance of a smile. Then, with a sudden, determined lowering of his head, a straightening of his thin lips beneath his sparse beard, he turned again toward Stanley.