“Right,” rejoined Wyat; “out of that large assemblage three only are favourable to the imperialists. If you approve it, I will myself—though not a member of the council—answer Gardiner’s speech, and tell him we will not suffer this hateful alliance to take place.”
“That were unwise,” rejoined De Noailles, “do not meddle in the matter. It will only attract suspicion towards us.”
“I care not if it does,” replied Wyat; “we are all ready and sure of support. I will go further, if need be, and add, if the queen weds not Courtenay, a general insurrection will follow.”
“Courtenay will never wed the queen,” observed the earl, who had followed them, and overheard the remark.
“How?” exclaimed Wyat, in surprise.
“No more at present,” interposed De Noailles, hastily. “Renard’s eyes are upon us.”;
“What if they are?” cried Wyat, glancing fiercely in the direction of the imperial ambassador. “His looks—basilisk though they be—have no power to strike us dead. Oh that I had an opportunity of measuring swords with him! He should soon perceive the love I bear his prince and him.”
“I share in your hatred towards him,” observed Courtenay. “The favour Mary shows him proves the ascendancy he has obtained over her.”
“If he retains his power, farewell to the liberty of Englishmen,” rejoined Wyat; “we shall become as abject as the Flemings. But I, for one, will never submit to the yoke of Spain.”
“Not so loud!” cried De Noailles, checking him. “You will effectually destroy our scheme. Renard only seeks some plea to attack us. Have a moment’s patience, and some one not connected with the plot will take the responsibility upon himself.”