In desperation Nicholas began to talk of his visit to the Tower, of the Lieutenant’s timidity, and his own insistence; and they noticed nothing, till the door was flung open, and the old man stood there, his eyes bright and his lips trembling with hope. He held a scrap of paper in his hand. “Listen,” he cried as the others sprang to their feet. “A fellow has just come from Mr. Herries with this”--he lifted the paper and read,--“Mr. Torridon’s name is not in the bill. I will be with you to-morrow.” “Thank God!” said Chris. * * * * * There was another long discussion the following morning. Mr. Herries arrived about ten o’clock to certify his news; and the four sat till dinner once again, talking and planning. There was not the same desperate hurry now; the first danger was passed. There was only one thing that the lawyer could do, and that was to repeat his advice to seek the intercession of the Archbishop. He observed again that while Cranmer had the friendship of the fallen minister, he had not in any sense been involved in his fall; he was still powerful with the King, and of considerable weight with the Council in consequence. He was likely therefore to be both able and willing to speak on behalf of Cromwell’s agent. “But I would advise nothing to be done until the bill of attainder has come before Parliament. We do not know yet how far Mr. Torridon’s action has affected the evidence. From what you say, gentlemen, and from what I have heard elsewhere, I should think that the papers Mr. Torridon destroyed are not essential to a conviction. My Lord’s papers at his own house are sufficient.” But they had some difficulty in persuading Sir James to consent to ask a favour of the Archbishop. In his eyes, Cranmer was beyond the pale of decency; he had lived with two women, said the old man, whom he called his wives, although as a priest he was incapable of marriage; he had violated his consecration oath; he had blessed and annulled the frequent marriages of the King with equal readiness; he was a heretic confessed and open on numberless points of the Catholic Faith. Mr. Herries pointed out with laborious minuteness that this was beside the question altogether. He did not propose that Sir James Torridon should go to the Archbishop as to a spiritual superior, but as to one who chanced to have great influence;--if he were a murderer it would make no difference to his advice. Chris broke in with troubled eyes. “Indeed, sir,” he said to his father, “you know how I am with you in all that you say; and yet I am with Mr. Herries too. I do not understand--” “God help us,” cried the old man. “I do not know what to do.” “Will you talk with Mistress Beatrice?” asked Chris. Sir James nodded. “I will do that,” he said. * * * * *