"Beyond a doubt," answered Sir John; "yet my mind misgives me on one point. The Pursuivant," he continued, "may fail to identify William as his assailant; he may have heard of the extraordinary resemblance of the twin brothers. And if William be acquitted, he may shift the charge to Ralph and demand his arrest."
"I think you are distressing yourself needlessly, my friend," answered the Ambassador, "for let me tell you that this very day the Pursuivant was taken to the Fleet that he might see the prisoner as he took his daily exercise in the yard. He saw him, and was instantly convinced that William was the man who had assaulted him in Chiddingly wood. Moreover, we have no reason to suppose that he is aware of Ralph's existence."
"I am afraid that the last-named circumstance is too well known both in London and at Lewes," interposed the Lord Mayor, "especially since the occurrence of the gallant episode on the Thames. I begin to think that Sir John's fears are well founded, and that after all our wisest course would be to send Ralph across the water, and that instantly; he is now quite strong enough to travel."
Sir John smiled sadly as he replied—
"You do not know my two nephews sufficiently well, my Lord Mayor, if you think that scheme possible. Let me tell you that they are so linked together in brotherly love that Ralph would never consent to save his own life if thereby he endangered William's safety. Nay, more, let me assure you that if our plans failed, and William were condemned, Ralph would at once make a full confession to the authorities."
"They are two noble boys," cried Don Renard, with generous enthusiasm, "equally great in love and strife; have no fear for them, my dear Sir John. Heaven will not suffer them to pass their young lives in a prison cell!"
Thus the friendly conclave debated until the hour grew late, and the heavy air within the library became oppressive.
As night had deepened the sultry atmosphere had given place to storm and tempest, and a heavy rain was falling.
The lights had grown dim, but the noble proportions of the library were almost continuously lit up by the flashes of lightning, and the deep diapason of the rolling thunder shook the ancient Inn.
The serving men of the friends in Council were awaiting their masters with carriages in the Square, and as St. Paul's clock struck the hour of midnight Sir John's guests took their departure.