herefore, Cromwell's debtor; and since this
tormented and vexed him, he swore Cromwell's ruin. When Henry moved into
Whitehall, it was concluded that Cromwell must ascend the scaffold. Ah,
the king is such an economical builder! A palace costs him nothing but
the head of a subject. With Cromwell's bead be paid for Whitehall; and
Wolsey died for Hampton Court."

"Not on the scaffold, though, John."

"Oh, no; Henry preferred merely to break his heart, and not his head.
First, he had that wonderful pleasure-villa, Hampton Court, with all
its treasures, presented him by Wolsey; then he removed him from all his
offices, and deprived him of all his honors. Finally, he was to go to
the Tower as a prisoner; but he died on his way thither. No, you are
right! Wolsey did not die on the scaffold, he was put to death much more
slowly and more cruelly. He was not killed with the sword, but pricked
to death with pins!"

"Did you not say, John, that you had travelled this way once before?"

"Yes, queen, and I did it to bid farewell to the noblest of men, and the
truest of friends, Thomas More! I begged and besought Cromwell so long
that he had compassion on my anguish, and allowed me to go through this
passage to Thomas More, that I might at least receive the blessing and
last kiss of affection of this saint. Ah, queen, speak no more of it
to me! From that day I became a fool; for I saw it was not worth the
trouble to be an honest man, when such men as More are executed as
criminals. Come, queen, let us go on!"

"Yes, on, John!" said she, rising. "But do you know then whither we are
going?"

"Ah, queen, do I not then know you? and did I not tell you that Anne
Askew is to be stretched upon the rack to-morrow, unless she recant?"

"I see that you have understood me," said she, giving him a friendly
nod. "Yes, I am going to Anne Askew."

"But how will you, without being seen and discovered, find out her
cell?"

"John, even the unhappy have friends. Yes, the queen herself has a few;
and so chance, or it may be even God's will, has so arranged matters,
that Anne Askew is occupying, just at this time, that small room in
which the secret passage terminates."

"Is she alone in that room?"

"Yes, all alone. The guard stands without before the door."

"And should they hear you, and open the door?"

"Then without doubt I am lost, unless God supports me."

They walked on in silence, both too much occupied with their own
thoughts