"Yesterday I saw the Lord Mayor, and he vowed to me that no earthly power should constrain him to proclaim Lady Jane as Queen in the City— let me tell you his heart is wholly with the Lady Mary, and, by my troth, he is wise! For, as a lawyer, I declare that the rights to the throne of the Ladies Mary and Elizabeth are indefeasible; yet, if I said as much in London to-day, I might spend the night in the Tower, and to- morrow bid my last adieu to this world on the scaffold! "Oh, the times are dark, deadly, perilous, and I am glad to escape from London and breathe the pure air of Chiddingly for a brief space." "And if Mary become Queen, what of our Reformed Church, which is dear to us both?" inquired William anxiously. "Ah! God knows—and God only," answered Sir John. "The Lady Mary is a bigot, and that we all know. "Yet I will tell you a State secret: she has sent a messenger to the Lord Mayor, declaring that should she be declared Queen, no Englishman shall suffer for his faith." "Will she keep her word?" asked William. "_Qui vivra verra_," answered Sir John; "but I foresee that all depends upon the man whom she shall marry, for marry she will. If, by the mercy of God, she marry a good man, all may be well; if she marry a bad one, then God help us!" William was deeply moved, and he sighed audibly. "It bodes great trouble for England," he said in a troubled voice. "It may be that the fires of Smithfield will be rekindled as in the worst days of King Henry: yet I believe that the Reformation has taken a deep hold upon the country; the Church may bend before a fierce storm of persecution, but she will not be broken—she will rise again! I, for one, would rather die than bow my knees to Baal, as represented to me by the Papacy; and, thank God, there are thousands of men of like mind with me in Sussex!" As William pronounced these words in tones that quivered with emotion, his brother caught him by the hand, and shaking it warmly, he cried— "I know your stedfastness, brother, and I agree with you with all my heart and soul—yet I pray that God may spare us the trial of our faith! But hark! I hear an approaching horseman; I expect it is my man Roger, who is bringing us the latest news from town." A few minutes later the groom appeared on the lawn, bearing letters in his hand. Sir John took them from him; then, turning to his brother, he said— "Let us go indoors; these letters are from my secretary, and we will read them at once; they must be of importance, or they would not have followed me so soon." Entering the house the gentlemen made their way to the library—a comfortable room, well lighted with wax candles, and furnished with numerous settees and easy-chairs. Sir John sat down and eagerly opened his despatches. "It is Tremayne who writes," he said. "I will read his letter to you; it is as follows— "'HONOURED SIR,