Then Sir John spoke again.
"Yet I do not despair, and 'I lift mine eyes unto the hills, to God, from whom cometh my hope.' And we have many friends, powerful both in the Court and in the city. No, I cannot, and will not, despair, so help me God!"
There was something inexpressibly solemn and noble in Sir John's utterance and manner; his fine face was full of anguish, but his heart quailed not.
Then came a sudden interruption: the Spanish Ambassador asked permission to speak, and all strained forward to hear what Don Renard had to say.
"Sir John and friends all," he began in low tones but with distinct utterance, "it is known to you that the twin brothers have a special claim on my sympathy and can command whatsoever aid I can give them in their hour of need; but for their noble courage I should have been a childless man this day!
"The proceedings in the Star Chamber to-morrow will probably be brief, for the accused will admit his guilt; the result is certain—a heavy sentence.
"But, like Sir John, I do not despair; then will be the hour for action on the part of Mr. Ralph's friends. I do not hesitate to lay before you my own plan of action; for I am persuaded that all who now hear me will feel the necessity for absolute secrecy on this great matter. It is known to many of you that Cardinal Pole is already well disposed towards Mr. Ralph—it was manifestly shown in the trial to-day.
"When sentence has been given I will ask his Eminence to accompany me to Whitehall, and there we will ask of Queen Mary the exercise of her royal clemency for our young friend. I do not think we shall plead in vain!"
At these words a murmur of satisfaction and reassurance passed amid his almost breathless audience.
But Sir Philip Broke rose to speak, and all were silent again.