said of the King's death and the pestilence is enough to cast
her," went on Cromwell presently. "And Bocking and Hadleigh will be in
his hands soon, too. They do not know their peril yet."

They went on to talk of the friars, and of the disfavour that they were
in with the King after the unfortunate occurrences of the previous
spring, when Father Peto had preached at Greenwich before Henry on the
subject of Naboth's vineyard and the end of Ahab the oppressor. There
had been a dramatic scene, Cromwell said, when on the following Sunday a
canon of Hereford, Dr. Curwin, had preached against Peto from the same
pulpit, and had been rebuked from the rood-loft by another of the
brethren, Father Elstow, who had continued declaiming until the King
himself had fiercely intervened from the royal pew and bade him be
silent.

"The two are banished," said Cromwell, "but that is not the end of it.
Their brethren will hear of it again. I have never seen the King so
wrathful. I suppose it was partly because the Lady Katharine so
cossetted them. She was always in the church at the night-office when
the Court was at Greenwich, and Friar Forrest, you know, was her
confessor. There is a rod in pickle."

Ralph listened with all his ears. Cromwell was not very communicative
on the subject of the Religious houses, but Ralph had gathered from
hints of this kind that something was preparing.

When supper was over and the servants were clearing away, Cromwell went
to the window where the glass glowed overhead with his new arms and
scrolls--a blue coat with Cornish choughs and a rose on a fess between
three rampant lions--and stood there, a steady formidable figure, with
his cropped head and great jowl, looking out on to the garden.

When the men had gone he turned again to Ralph.

"I have something for you," he said, "but it is greater than those other
matters--a fool could not do it. Sit down."

He came across the room to the fireplace, as Ralph sat down, and himself
took a chair by the table, lifting the baudkin cushion and settling it
again comfortably behind him.

"It is this," he said abruptly. "You know that Master More has been in
trouble. There was the matter of the gilt flagon which Powell said he
had taken as a bribe, and the gloves lined with forty pound. Well, he
disproved that, and I am glad of it, glad of it," he repeated steadily,
looking down at his ring and turning it to catch the light. "But there
is now another matter