“My heart is sick,” he said.
There was another slight movement.
“Well, sir,” the voice said again, “you have not told us why you are here.”
“For justice from my queen,” he said, and stopped. “And for mercy from a woman,” he added, scarcely knowing what he said.
Again Elizabeth stirred in her chair.
“You taught him that, you wicked girl,” she said.
“No, madam,” came Mary’s voice from behind, subdued and entreating, “it is his heart that speaks.”
“Enough, sir,” said Elizabeth; “now tell us plainly what you want of us.”
Then Anthony thought it time to be bold. He made a great effort, and the sense of constraint relaxed a little.
“I have been, your Grace, to Sir Francis Walsingham, and my lord Bishop of London, and I can get neither justice nor mercy from either; and so I come to your Grace, who are their mistress, to teach them manners.”