“Wait till we are free,” said John, drily.
“And moderate your voice, Ned Underhill,” added Mr Ferris, “if you would be free long.”
Mr Underhill laid his hands upon John’s shoulders.
“Look me in the face, John Avery,” answered he, “and tell me what you mean. Think you this great palace of cruelty and injustice built up by him shall not crumble to dust along with Stephen Gardiner?”
“I doubt it very greatly,” he replied.
“Assuredly not,” said Marguerite Rose, “so long as the King Philip is in this country, and the Bishop of London. It might ask Dr Gardiner to build the palace, but I think they shall be able to keep it standing.”
“But King Philip is not in this country,” said Mr Underhill.
“He is master of it,” said John.
“Alas for my Te Deum, then!” sighed Mr Underhill, shrugging his shoulders. “But I hope you may yet find you mistaken, Jack Avery.”
“Not more than I, Ned,” said John, sadly.