"He was here just now," replied the Lord Mayor, "but he has been summoned to perform some duty connected with his office; he asked me to explain his absence to you."
A cold chill fell upon the heart of Sir John as he heard these words—was it a premonition?
Then, regaining his usual composure, he cried with a loud and cheerful voice—
"Be seated, friends; the dinner waits, and some of us are as hungry as hunters."
The chaplain of the Inn, who was present as a guest, said grace, and a merry clatter of knives and forks ensued.
Next to Sir Philip Broke sat the Spanish Ambassador, and, as the meal progressed, Sir Philip fell into conversation with his neighbour, with whom his high office brought him into frequent communication; and in social life also they were excellent friends.
"Tell me, your excellency," he said in a low voice, "how will your royal master view the proceedings of this day?"
"Somewhat bitterly, I fear," replied Don Renard. "It was only yesterday that he expressed to me his amazement that a royal officer could be so treated as was our friend the Pursuivant. He was eager to see the perpetrator of the assault brought to condign punishment.
"'In our own land,' he said to me, 'we should have broken the miscreant upon the wheel without judge or jury; but these islanders are so phlegmatic, and stand so much on forms and ceremonies.'
"You must pardon King Philip, my friend, for his outspokenness; it is true that the customs of Spain and England differ considerably."