That night the friends of the unhappy boy met in the library at Gray's Inn to decide on their course of action.
The day had been hot, the evening was sultry, and the windows of the fine room were thrown open to admit the little air that stirred the leaves of the plane-trees in the square.
The room was somewhat dimly lit by wax candles, and small silver lamps, fed with perfumed oil, sent forth a languorous odour.
Don Simon Renard had much to tell the gentlemen who sat around him, among whom were the Lord Mayor of London, the Master of the Rolls, and, of course, Sir John Jefferay.
To all of these men the constitution of the Star Chamber and the course of procedure at the Council Meeting were perfectly well known, and the personal characteristics of every member of that dread tribunal (each of whom acted as a judge) were equally familiar to them.
Don Renard told them that the Chancellor himself, the Earl of Arundel, would preside, and that with him would sit the Earl of Pembroke, the Lords Paget and Rochester, Sir William Petre, and many others.
Cardinal Pole rarely sat at the Council—yet, at the Ambassador's especial solicitation, he had promised attendance on the morrow.
No strangers had a right to be present in the Court. Nevertheless, the Chancellor had granted the Ambassador's request that Sir Philip Broke and Sir John Jefferay might be admitted on this occasion.
The accused person was not allowed the privilege of the assistance of "Counsel," excepting upon the special invitation of the President.
"Our chief hope," said the Ambassador, "lies in the fact that the Master of the Rolls and the Treasurer of Gray's Inn can give in evidence that William was, at the time of the assault, actually with them in the Library of Gray's Inn, which should conclusively prove that he cannot possibly be guilty of the offence now charged against him."