As he spoke, there was a great stir without, the sound of hurrying feet and voices. The group by the fire paused in their talk to listen, and looked down toward the door at the lower end. In a moment it was opened and an attendant came swiftly across the hall and addressed Sir William, who still stirred the posset while Mistress Cicely sprinkled the amber over it. “A messenger from London, your worship,” the servant announced hurriedly, “and he craves leave to speak with you at once.” “From whom?” asked Carew, shortly. “My lord privy seal,” replied the man, in an awestricken tone. Sir William’s face showed both surprise and anxiety, but his manner changed but little. “Where have you got him?” he asked. “Without, sir; shall I bring him here?” “Nay, I will go to him,” Carew replied, after an instant of thought. “Raleigh, drink thou the sack, I will return again;” and he followed the servant from the hall. Lady Carew glanced nervously across at her guest. “May it be trouble?” she asked in an anxious voice. Raleigh shook his head. “In these times we cannot know, madam,” he replied, “but I take it that Sir William stands well with the king’s highness and with Cromwell.” “Ay, so we believe,” she said, speaking low, “but which of us can know how soon change may come? Wolsey, More, Fisher, the unhappy and gracious lady at Bugden! Why may not my good lord be caught also in the toils?” A shadow crossed Raleigh’s face, but it was only for the moment; after it came his ready smile. “Madam,” he said gently, “I know not how it may be, but I am sure that Sir William’s honest heart and clean hands are truly valued by the king’s grace; you know the saying is that ‘King Harry loves a man,’ and nowhere in this realm will he find a more valiant soldier or a more honest and God-fearing gentleman than your husband; albeit, Sir William may--from his own frankness--have made some enemies. A great-hearted man who dealeth honestly is like to have them, for there be many who do hate the odor of the truth.” Lady Carew sighed. “It may be that my heart is over-anxious,” she said; “these be troubled times, and Sir William hath often told me that my outspoken sympathy with that good queen is like to bring him into evil straits.” There was no more time for the good dame’s fears and misgivings, for at this moment Sir William returned, followed by a young man of fine bearing, whose rich attire was besprinkled with mud from hard riding. “Madam, I bring you a welcome visitor,” Carew said briefly. “My wife and Master Raleigh, this is Master Simon Raby, the son of Lord Raby of Sussex.”