CHAPTER VI
RALPH'S INTERCESSION
Ralph was astonished to find how the thought of the tall girl he had metat Sir Thomas More's house remained with him. He had reported the resultof his interview with More himself to his master; and Cromwell hadreceived it rather coldly. He had sniffed once or twice.
"That was not very well done, Mr. Torridon. I fear that you havefrightened him, and gained nothing by it."
Ralph stood silent.
"But I see you make no excuses," went on Cromwell, "so I will make themfor you. I daresay he was frightened already; and knew all about whathad passed between her and the Archbishop. You must try again, sir."
Ralph felt his heart stir with pleasure.
"I may say I have made friends with Mr. More, sir," he said. "I had goodfortune in the matter of a quotation, and he received me kindly. I cango there again without excusing my presence, as often as you will."
Cromwell looked at him.
"There is not much to be gained now," he said, "but you can go if youwill; and you may perhaps pick up something here and there. The morefriends you make the better."
Ralph went away delighted; he had not wholly failed then in his master'sbusiness, and he seemed to have set on foot a business of his own; andhe contemplated with some excitement his future visits to Chelsea.
* * * * *
He had his first word with the King a couple of months later. He hadoften, of course, seen him before, once or twice in the House of Lords,formidable and frowning on his throne, his gross chin on his hand,barking out a word or two to his subjects, or instructing them intheology, for which indeed he was very competent; and several times inprocessions, riding among his gentlemen on his great horse, splendid invelvet and gems; and he had always wondered what it was that gave himhis power. It could not be mere despotism, he thought, or his burlyEnglish nature; and it was not until he had seen him near at hand, andcome within range of his personality that he understood why it was thatmen bore such things from him.
He was sent for one afternoon by Cromwell to bring a paper and was takenup at once by a servant into the gallery where the minister and the Kingwere walking together. They were at the further end from that at whichhe entered, and he stood, a little nervous at his heart, but with hisusual appearance of self-possession, watching the two great backs turnedto him, and waiting to be called.
They turned again in a moment, and Cromwell saw him and beckoned,himself coming a few steps to meet him. The King waited, and Ralph wasaware of, rather than saw, that wide, coarse, strong face, and the longnarrow eyes, with the feathered cap atop, and the rich jewelled dressbeneath. The King stood with his hands behind his back and his legs wellapart.
Cromwell took the paper from Ralph, who stepped back, hesitating what todo.
"This is it, your Grace," said the minister going back again. "YourGrace will see that it is as I said."
Ralph perceived a new tone of deference in his master's voice that hehad never noticed before, except once when Cromwell was ironicallybullying a culprit who was giving trouble.
The King said nothing, took the paper and glanced over it, standing alittle aside to let the light fall on it.
"Your Grace will understand--" began Cromwell again.
"Yes, yes, yes," said the harsh voice impatiently. "Let the fellow takeit back," and he thrust the paper into Cromwell's hand, who turned oncemore to Ralph.
"Who is he?" said the King. "I have seen his face. Who are you?"
"This is Mr. Ralph Torridon," said Cromwell; "a very useful friend tome, your Grace."
"The Torridons of Overfield?" questioned Henry once more, who neverforgot a face or a name.
"Yes, your Grace," said Cromwell.
"You are tall enough, sir," said the King, running his narrow eyes upand down Ralph's figure;--"a strong friend."
"I hope so, your Grace," said Ralph.
The King again looked at him, and Ralph dropped his eyes in the glare ofthat mighty personality. Then Henry abruptly thrust out his hand to bekissed, and as Ralph bent over it he was aware of the thick straightfingers, the creased wrist, and the growth of hair on the back of thehand.
* * * * *
Ralph was astonished, and a little ashamed at his own excitement as hepassed down the stairs again. It was so little that had happened; hisown part had been so insignificant; and yet he was tingling from head tofoot. He felt he knew now a little better how it was that the King'swill, however outrageous in its purposes, was done so quickly. It wasthe sheer natural genius of authority and royalty that forced itthrough; he had felt himself dominated and subdued in those few moments,so that he was not his own master. As he went home through the street ortwo that separated the Palace gate from his own house, he found himselfanalysing the effect of that presence, and, in spite of its repellence,its suggestion of coarseness, and its almost irritating imperiousness,he was conscious that there was a very strong element of attractivenessin it too. It seemed to him the kind of attractiveness that there is fora beaten dog in the chastising hand: the personality was so overwhelmingthat it compelled allegiance, and that not wholly one of fear. He foundhimself thinking of Queen Katharine and understanding a little betterhow it was that the refined, delicately nurtured and devout woman, soconstant in her prayers, so full of the peculiar fineness of characterthat gentle birth and religion alone confer, could so cling to thisfierce lord of hers, throw herself at his feet with tears before all thecompany, and entreat not to be separated from him, calling him her "dearlord," her "love," and her most "merciful and gracious prince."
* * * * *
The transition from this train of thought to that bearing on Beatricewas not a difficult one; for the memory of the girl was continually inhis mind. He had seen her half a dozen times now since their firstmeeting; for he had availed himself to the full of Cromwell'sencouragement to make himself at home at Chelsea; and he found that hisinterest in her deepened every time. With a touch of amusement he foundhimself studying Horace and Terence again, not only for Sir ThomasMore's benefit, but in order to win his approval and his good report tohis household, among whom Beatrice was practically to be reckoned.
He was pleased too by More's account of Beatrice.
"She is nearly as good a scholar as my dear Meg," he had said one day."Try her, Mr. Torridon."
Ralph had carefully prepared an apt quotation that day, and fired it offpresently, not at Beatrice, but, as it were, across her; but there wasnot the faintest response or the quiver of an eyelid.
There was silence a moment; and then Sir Thomas burst out--
"You need not look so demure, my child; we all know that youunderstand."
Beatrice had given him a look of tranquil amusement in return.
"I will not be made a show of," she said.
Ralph went away that day more engrossed than ever. He began to askhimself where his interest in her would end; and wondered at itsintensity.
As he questioned himself about it, it seemed that to him it was to agreat extent her appearance of detached self-possession that attractedhim. It was the quality that he most desired for himself, and one whichhe had in measure attained; but he was aware that in the presence ofCromwell at least it deserted him. He knew well that he had found hismaster there, and that he himself was nothing more than ahero-worshipper before a shrine; but it provoked him to feel that therewas no one who seemed to occupy the place of a similar divinity withregard to this girl. Obviously she admired and loved Sir ThomasMore--Ralph soon found out how deeply in the course of his visits--butshe was not in the least afraid of her friend. She serenely contradictedhim when she disagreed with what he said, would fail to keep herappointments at his house with the same equanimity, and in spite of SirThomas's personality never appeared to give him more than a friendly andaffectionate homage. With regard to Ralph himself, it was the same. Shewas not in the least awed by him, or apparently impressed by h
isreputation which at this time was growing rapidly as that of a capableand daring agent of Cromwell's; and even once or twice when hecondescended to hint at the vastness of the affairs on which he wasengaged, in a desperate endeavour to rouse her admiration, she onlylooked at him steadily a moment with very penetrating eyes, and began tospeak of something else. He began to feel discouraged.
* * * * *
The first hint that Ralph had that he had been making a mistake in hisestimate of her, came from Margaret Roper, who was still living atChelsea with her husband Will.
Ralph had walked up to the house one bleak afternoon in early springalong the river-bank from Westminster, and had found Margaret alone inthe dining-hall, seated by the window with her embroidery in her hand,and a Terence propped open on the sill to catch the last gleams of lightfrom the darkening afternoon. She greeted Ralph warmly, for he was avery familiar figure to them all by now, and soon began to talk, when hehad taken a seat by the wide open fireplace whence the flames flickeredout, casting shadows and lights round the high room, across thehigh-hung tapestries and in the gloomy corners.
"Beatrice is here," she said presently, "upstairs with father. I thinkshe is doing some copying for him."
"She is a great deal with him," observed Ralph.
"Why, yes; father thinks so much of her. He says that none can write sowell as she, or has such a quick brain. And then she does not talk, hesays, nor ask foolish woman-questions like the rest of us." And Margaretglanced up a moment, smiling.
"I suppose I must not go up," said Ralph, a little peevishly; for he wastired with his long day.
"Why, no, you must not," said Margaret, "but she will be down soon, Mr.Torridon."
There was silence for a moment or two; and then Margaret spoke again.
"Mr. Torridon," she said, "may I say something?" Ralph made a littlesound of assent. The warmth of the fire was making him sleepy.
"Well, it is this," said Margaret slowly, "I think you believe thatBeatrice does not like you. That is not true. She is very fond of you;she thinks a great deal of you," she added, rather hastily.
Ralph sat up; his drowsiness was gone.
"How do you know that, Mrs. Roper?" he asked. His voice soundedperfectly natural, and Margaret was reassured at the tone of it. Shecould not see Ralph well; it was getting dark now.
"I know it well," she said. "Of course we talk of you when you aregone."
"And does Mrs. Beatrice talk of me?"
"Not so much," said Margaret, "but she listens very closely; and asks usquestions sometimes." The girl's heart was beating with excitement asshe spoke; but she had made up her mind to seek this opportunity. Itseemed a pity, she thought, that two friends of hers should somisunderstood one another.
"And what kind of questions?" asked Ralph again.
"She wonders--what you really think--" went on Margaret slowly, bendingdown over her embroidery, and punctuating her words withstitches--"about--about affairs--and--and she said one day that--"
"Well?" said Ralph in the same tone.
"That she thought you were not so severe as you seemed," ended Margaret,her voice a little tremulous with amusement.
Ralph sat perfectly still, staring at the great fire-plate on which asmoky Phoebus in relief drove the chariot of the sun behind the tallwavering flames that rose from the burning logs. He knew very well whyMargaret had spoken, and that she would not speak without reason; butthe fact revealed was so bewilderingly new to him that he could not takeit in. Margaret looked at him once or twice a little uneasily; and atlast sighed.
"It is too dark," she said, "I must fetch candles."
She slipped out of the side-door that led to the servants' quarters, andRalph was left alone. All his weariness was gone now; the whirl ofimages and schemes with which his brain had been seething as he walkedup the river-bank half-an-hour before, had receded into obscurity; andone dominating thought filled their place: What if Margaret were right?And what did he mean to do himself? Surely he was not--
The door from the entrance passage opened, and a tall slender figurestood there, now in light, now in shadow, as the flames rose and fell.
"Meg," said a voice.
Ralph sat still a moment longer.
"Meg," said Beatrice again, "how dark you are."
Ralph stood up.
"Mrs Roper has just gone," he said, "you must put up with me, Mrs.Beatrice."
"Who is it?" said the girl advancing. "Mr. Torridon?"
She had a paper in her hand as she came across the floor, and Ralph drewout a chair for her on the other side of the hearth.
"Yes," he said. "Mrs. Roper has gone for lights. She will be backimmediately."
Beatrice sat down.
"It is a troublesome word," she said. "Master More cannot read ithimself, and has sent me to ask Meg. He says that every dutiful daughtershould be able to read her father's hand."
And Ralph could see a faint amused smile in her black eyes, as thefirelight shone on them.
"Master More always has an escape ready," he said, as he too sat down.
The girl's hand holding the paper suddenly dropped on to her knee, andthe man saw she was looking at him oddly.
"Yes?" he said interrogatively; and then--
"Why do you look at me like that, Mrs. Beatrice?"
"It is what you said. Do you really think that, Mr. Torridon?"
Ralph was bewildered for a moment.
"I do not understand," he said.
"Do you truly think he always has an escape ready?" repeated the girl.
Then Ralph understood.
"You mean he is in danger," he said steadily. "Well, of course he is.There is no great man that is not. But I do not see why he should notescape as he has always done."
"You think that, Mr. Torridon?"
"Why, yes;" went on Ralph, a little hastily. "You remember the matterof the bribe. See how he cleared himself. Surely, Mrs. Beatrice--"
"And you really think so," said the girl. "I know that you know what wedo not; and I shall believe what you say."
"How can I tell?" remonstrated Ralph. "I can only tell you that in thismatter I know nothing that you do not. Master More is under nosuspicion."
Beatrice drew a breath of relief.
"I am glad I spoke to you, sir," she said. "It has been on my mind. Andsomething that he said a few minutes ago frightened me."
"What did he say?" asked Ralph curiously.
"Ah! it was not much. It was that no man knew what might come next; thatmatters were very strange and dismaying--and--and that he wanted thispaper copied quickly, for fear--"
The girl stopped again, abruptly.
"I know what you feel, Mrs. Beatrice," said Ralph gently. "I know howyou love Master More, and how terrified we may become for our friends."
"What do you think yourself, Mr. Torridon," she said suddenly, almostinterrupting him.
He looked at her doubtfully a moment, and half wished that Margaretwould come back.
"That is a wide question," he said.
"Well, you know what I mean," she said coolly, completely herself again.She was sitting back in her chair now, drawing the paper serenely to andfro between her fingers; and he could see the firelight on her chin andbrows, and those steady eyes watching him. He had an impulse ofconfidence.
"I do think changes are coming," he said. "I suppose we all do."
"And you approve?"
"Oh! how can I say off-hand?--But I think changes are needed."
She was looking down at the fire again now, and did not speak for amoment.
"Master More said you were of the new school," she said meditatively.
Ralph felt a curious thrill of exultation. Margaret was right then; thisgirl had been thinking about him.
"There is certainly a stirring," he said; and his voice was a littlerestrained.
"Oh, I am not blind or deaf," said the girl. "Of course, there is astirring--but I wondered--"
Then Margaret
came in with the candles.
Ralph went away that evening more excited than he liked. It seemed as ifMistress Roper's words had set light to a fire ready laid, and he couldperceive the warmth beginning to move about his heart and odd waveringlights flickering on his circumstances and business that had not beenthere before.
* * * * *
He received his first letter from Beatrice a few weeks later, and itthrew him into a strait between his personal and official claims.
Cromwell at this time was exceedingly occupied with quelling the ardourof the House of Lords, who were requesting that the Holy Maid of Kentand her companions might have an opportunity of defending themselvesbefore the Act of Attainder ordered by the King was passed against them;but he found time to tell his agent that trouble was impending over Moreand Fisher; and to request him to hand in any evidence that he mighthave against the former.
"I suppose we shall have to let the Bishop off with a fine," said theminister, "in regard to the Maid's affair; but we shall catch himpresently over the Act; and Mr. More is clear of it. But we shall havehim too in a few days. Put down what you have to say, Mr. Torridon, andlet me have it this evening."
And then he rustled off down the staircase to where his carriage waswaiting to take him to Westminster, where he proposed to tell thescrupulous peers that the King was not accustomed to command twice, andthat to suspect his Grace of wishing them to do an injustice was a pieceof insolence that neither himself nor his royal master had expected ofthem.
Ralph was actually engaged in putting down his very scanty accusationsagainst Sir Thomas More when the letter from Beatrice was brought up tohim. He read it through twice in silence; and then ordered the courierto wait below. When the servant had left the room, he read it through athird time.
It was not long; but it was pregnant.
"I entreat you, sir," wrote the girl, "for the love of Jesu, to let usknow if anything is designed against our friend. Three weeks ago youtold me it was not so; I pray God that may be true still. I know thatyou would not lift a finger against him yourself--" (Ralph glanced athis own neat little list at these words, and bit his pen)--"but I wishyou to do what you can for him and for us all." Then followed anerasure.
Ralph carried the paper to the window, flattened it against the panesand read clearly the words, "If my" under the scratching lines, andsmiled to himself as he guessed what the sentence was that she wasbeginning.
Then the letter continued.
"I hear on good authority that there is something against him. He willnot escape; and will do nothing on such hearsay, but only tells us totrust God, and laughs at us all. Good Mr. Torridon, do what you can.Your loving friend, B.A."
Ralph went back from the window where he was still standing, and satdown again, bending his head into his hands. He had no sort of scruplesagainst lying as such or betraying Mr. More's private conversation; hiswhole training was directed against such foolishness, and he had learntat last from Cromwell's incessant precept and example that the good ofthe State over-rode all private interests. But he had a disinclinationto lie to Beatrice; and he felt simply unable to lose her friendship bytelling her the truth.
As he sat there perfectly still, the servant peeped in once softly tosee if the answer was ready, and noiselessly withdrew. Ralph did notstir; but still sat on, pressing his eyeballs till they ached and fieryrings twisted before him in the darkness. Then he abruptly sat up,blinked a moment or two, took up a pen, bit it again, and laid it downand sat eyeing the two papers that lay side by side on his desk.
He took up his own list, and read it through. After all, it was veryinsignificant, and contained no more than minute scraps of conversationthat Sir Thomas More had let drop. He had called Queen Katharine "poorwoman" three or four times; had expressed a reverence for the Pope ofRome half a dozen times, and had once called him the Vicar of Christ. Hehad been silent when someone had mentioned Anne Boleyn's name; he hadpraised the Carthusians and the Religious Life generally, at somelength.
They were the kind of remarks that might mean nothing or a great deal;they were consistent with loyalty; they were not inconsistent withtreason; in fact they were exactly the kind of material out of whichserious accusations might be manufactured by a skilled hand, though asthey stood they proved nothing.
A further consideration to Ralph was his duty to Cromwell; he scarcelyfelt it seemly to lie whole-heartedly to him; and on the other hand hefelt now simply unable to lie to Beatrice. There was only one way out ofit,--to prevaricate to them both.
He took up his own paper, glanced at it once more; and then with aslightly dramatic gesture tore it across and across, and threw it on theground. Then he took up his pen and wrote to Beatrice.
"I have only had access to one paper against our friend--that I havedestroyed, though I do not know what Master Cromwell will say. But Itell you this to show at what a price I value your friendship.
"Of course our friend is threatened. Who is not in these days? But Iswear to you that I do not know what is the design."
He added a word or two more for politeness' sake, prayed that "God mighthave her in His keeping," and signed himself as she had done, her"loving friend."
Then he dried the ink with his pounce box, sealed the letter with greatcare, and took it down to the courier himself.
* * * * *
He faced Cromwell in the evening with a good deal of terror, but withgreat adroitness; swore positively that More had said nothing actuallytreasonable, and had found, on putting pen to paper, that theaccusations were flimsier than he thought.
"But it is your business to see that they be not so," stormed hismaster. Ralph paused a moment respectfully.
"I cannot make a purse out of a sow's ear, sir. I must have at leastsome sort of silk."
When Cromwell had ceased to walk up and down, Ralph pointed out withconsiderable shrewdness that he did not suppose that his evidence wasgoing to form the main ground of the attack on More; and that it wouldmerely weaken the position to bring such feeble arguments to bear.
"Why he would tear them to shreds, sir, in five minutes; he would makeout that they were our principal grounds--he is a skilled lawyer. If Imay dare to say so, Master Cromwell, let your words against Mr. More befew and choice."
This was bolder speaking than he had ever ventured on before; butCromwell was in a good humour. The peers had proved tractable and hadagreed to pass the attainder against Elizabeth Barton without any moretalk of justice and the accused's right of defence; and he looked now atRalph with a grim approval.
"I believe you are right, Mr. Torridon. I will think, over it."
A week later the blow fell.
* * * * *
Cromwell looked up at him one Sunday evening as he came into the room,with his papers, and without any greeting spoke at once.
"I wish you to go to Lambeth House to-morrow morning early, Mr.Torridon. Master More is to be there to have the Oath of Successiontendered to him with the others. Do your best to persuade him to takeit; be his true friend."
A little grim amusement shone in his eyes as he spoke. Ralph looked athim a moment.
"I mean it, Mr. Torridon: do your best. I wish him to think you hisfriend."
* * * * *
As Ralph went across the Thames in a wherry the following morning, hewas still thinking out the situation. Apparently Cromwell wished to keepin friendly touch with More; and this now, of course, was only possiblethrough Ralph, and would have been impossible if the latter's evidencehad been used, or were going to be used. It was a relief to him to knowthat the consummation of his treachery was postponed at least for thepresent; (but he would not have called it treachery).
As Lambeth towers began to loom ahead, Ralph took out Beatrice's letterthat had come in answer to his own a few days before, and ran his eyesover it. It was a line of passionate thanks and blessing. Surely he hadreached her hidden hear
t at last. He put the letter back in his innerpocket, just before he stepped ashore. It no doubt would be a usefulevidence of his own sincerity in his interview with More.
There was a great crowd in the court as he passed through, for many werebeing called to take the oath, which, however, was not made strictlylegal until the following Second Act in the autumn. Several carriageswere drawn up near the house door, and among them Ralph recognised theliveries of his master and of Lord Chancellor Audley. A number of horsesand mules too were tethered to rings in the wall on the other side withgrooms beside them, and ecclesiastics and secretaries were coming andgoing, disputing in groups, calling to one another, in the pleasantApril sunshine.
On enquiry he found that the Commissioners were sitting in one of thedownstair parlours; but one of Cromwell's servants at the door told himthat he was not to go in there, but that Mr. More was upstairs byhimself, and that if he pleased he would show him the way.
It was an old room looking on to the garden, scantily furnished, with apatch of carpet by the window and a table and chair set upon it. Moreturned round from the window-seat on which he was kneeling to look out,and smiled genially as Ralph heard the servant close the door.
"Why, Mr. Torridon, are you in trouble too? This is the detention-roomwhither I am sent to consider myself."
He led Ralph, still holding his hand, to the window-seat, where heleaned again looking eagerly into the garden.
"There go the good boys," he said, "to and fro in the playground; andhere sit I. I suppose I have nothing but the rod to look for."
Ralph felt a little awkward in the presence of this gaiety; and for aminute or two leaned out beside More, staring mechanically at thefigures that passed up and down. He had expected almost to find him athis prayers, or at least thoughtfully considering himself.
More commented agreeably on the passers-by.
"Dr. Wilson was here a moment ago; but he is off now, with a man oneither side. He too is a naughty fellow like myself, and will not listento reason. There is the Vicar of Croydon, good man, coming out of thebuttery wiping his mouth."
Ralph looked down at the priest's flushed excited face; he was talkingwith a kind of reckless gaiety to a friend who walked beside him.
"He was sad enough just now," went on the other, "while he was stillobstinate; but his master hath patted him on the head now and given himcake and wine. He was calling out for a drink just now (which he hathgot, I see) either for gladness or for dryness, or else that we mightknow _quod ille notus erat pontifici_."
Dr. Latimer passed presently, his arms on either side flung round apriest's neck; he too was talking volubly and laughing; and the skirtsof his habit wagged behind him.
"He is in high feather," said More, "and I have no doubt that hisconscience is as clear as his eyes. Come, Mr. Torridon; sit you down.What have you come for?"
Ralph sat back on the window-seat with his back to the light, and hishat between his knees.
"I came to see you, sir; I have not been to the Commissioners. I heardyou were here."
"Why, yes," said More, "here I am."
"I came to see if I could be of any use to you, Master More; I know afriend's face is a good councillor sometimes, even though that friend bea fool."
More patted him softly on the knee.
"No fool," he said, "far from it."
He looked at him so oddly that Ralph feared that he suspected him; so hemade haste to bring out Beatrice's letter.
"Mistress Atherton has written me this," he said. "I was able to do hera little service--at least I thought it so then."
More took the letter and glanced at it.
"A very pretty letter," he said, "and why do you show it me?"
Ralph looked at him steadily.
"Because I am Master Cromwell's servant; and you never forget it."
More burst into a fit of laughter; and then took Ralph kindly by thehand.
"You are either very innocent or very deep," he said. "And what have youcome to ask me?"
"I have come to ask nothing, Master More," said Ralph indignantly,withdrawing his hand--"except to be of service to you."
"To talk about the oath," corrected the other placidly. "Very well then.Do you begin, Mr. Torridon."
Ralph made a great effort, for he was sorely perplexed by Sir Thomas'attitude, and began to talk, putting all the reasons forward that hecould think of for the accepting of the oath. He pointed out thatgovernment and allegiance would be impossible things if every man had toexamine for himself the claims of his rulers; when vexed and elaboratequestions arose--and this certainly was one such--was it not safer tofollow the decrees of the King and Parliament, rather than to take up aposition of private judgment, and decide upon details of which a subjectcould have no knowledge? How, too, could More, under the circumstances,take upon himself to condemn those who had subscribed the oath?--henamed a few eminent prelates, the Abbot of Westminster and others.
"I do not condemn them," put in More, who was looking interested.
"Then you are uncertain of the matter?" went on Ralph who had thoughtout his line of argument with some care.
More assented.
"But your duty to the King's grace is certain; therefore it shouldoutweigh a thing that is doubtful."
Sir Thomas sucked in his lower lip, and stared gravely on the youngman.
"You are very shrewd, sir," he said. "I do not know how to answer thatat this moment; but I have no reasonable doubt but that there is ananswer."
Ralph was delighted with his advantage, and pursued it eagerly; andafter a few minutes had won from More an acknowledgment that he might bewilling to consider the taking of the oath itself; it was the otherclauses that touched his conscience more. He could swear to be loyal toAnne's children; but he could not assent to the denunciation of the Popecontained in the preamble of the Act, and the oath would commit him tothat.
"But you will tell that to the Commissioners, sir?" asked Ralph eagerly.
"I will tell them all that I have told you," said More smiling.
Ralph himself was somewhat doubtful as to whether the concession wouldbe accepted; but he professed great confidence, and secretlycongratulated himself with having made so much way. But presently aremark of More's showed that he appreciated the situation.
"I am very grateful to you, Mr. Torridon, for coming and talking to me;and I shall tell my wife and children so. But it is of no use. They areresolved to catch me. First there was the bribe; then the matter of theMaid; then this; and if I took a hundred oaths they would find one morethat I could not, without losing my soul; and that indeed I do notpropose to do. _Quid enim proficit homo?_"
There was a knock at the door a moment later, and a servant came in tobeg Mr. More to come downstairs again; the Commissioners were ready forhim.
"Then good-day, Mr. Torridon. You will come and see me sometimes, evenif not at Chelsea. Wherever I may be it will be as nigh heaven asChelsea."
Ralph went down with him, and parted from him at the door of theCommissioner's room; and half-an-hour later a message was sent out tohim by Cromwell that he need wait no longer; Mr. More had refused theoath, and had been handed over to the custody of the Abbot ofWestminster.