“I have been in his company at times, but received nothing but a fleeting glance or a passing word of courtesy.  I have watched him in converse with others many times.  He hath a stately presence, and a great gift of speech.  He can win hearts by the grace and kindliness of his address, or he can send men away quaking in fear by the flash of his eagle eye and the stern rebukes which fall from his lips.  And none can know beforehand which will be his fashion of receiving a petition, and particularly such a petition as ours.

“In God’s hands must we leave the issues.  But at least for such a man as John Clarke it must surely be right to adventure somewhat.  I will go with Anthony.  Together, I trust, we shall succeed.”

“And we at home will pray day and night for your success,” answered the young wife, clinging to her husband, from whom she must make up her mind to part on an errand that might be fraught with peril; “and surely I think that God will hear and answer us, and give you grace and power to intercede.”

So as soon after Easter as Anthony was fit for the saddle the two friends started off together on horseback for London, whilst the wife and the betrothed stood to watch them away, waving them a farewell, and hiding from their eyes the starting tears, which were only allowed to fall when the sisters were left alone together.

Chapter XVII:  The Clemency Of The Cardinal

The great man sat in his private closet, with the ivory crucifix in the corner before the prie dieu chair, a wonderful picture of the annunciation on the wall, where he could see it every time he lifted his eyes, and a table piled with papers before him, though piled with a certain method and order which enabled him to lay his hand in a moment upon any required document.

He wore the scarlet robes of his office, and a scarlet skullcap was on his head.  His features were those of the ascetic and man of the world.  The skin was pale and slightly sallow, like old parchment; the hair was turning white, and was thin upon the temples.  The clear-cut features were impressive, both in outline and in expression, and the eye was as the eye of the eagle, so keenly penetrating and far-seeing that many had shrunk before its gaze as before the sharp thrust of a rapier.

Arthur Cole entered the presence of the great man with the habitual courtly and almost exaggerated reverence that custom imposed.  But Anthony Dalaber, who followed, only bowed with a sort of sullen defiance in look and aspect, not even raising his eyes to meet the flashing, rapid glance which the great man bent upon him as he slowly followed his companion into that august presence.  He stood in the background, and his dark face and gaunt figure did not lack elements of dignity.  There was something distinguished in the personality of Dalaber, of which those who knew him were keenly conscious.