sung mass before the Queen; but it proved
false. Again the altar was set up in Saint Paul's Cathedral; and when
Bishop Bonner came from the Marshalsea, great rejoicing was made. Many
by the way bade him welcome home, and "as many of the women as might
kissed him." No Gospeller would have kissed him for a King's ransom.
On the 5th of September came Mr Ive, with news of Mr Underhill at once
good and bad. He was released from Newgate, but was so weak and ill
that they were obliged to carry him home in a horse-litter, and the
gaoler's servant bore him down the stairs to the litter in his arms like
a child; and for all this, those who accompanied him (Mrs Underhill, Mr
Speryn, Mr Ive, and others) were afraid lest he should not live till he
came home. They were compelled to go very gently, and frequently to
halt; so that two hours were required to pass through the city, from
Newgate to Aldgate, and night fell before he could get to his house:
where he now remained in the same weak and deplorable state, and all the
Gospellers were asked to pray for him.

To the great relief of all Protestants, the Archbishop published a
letter in which he utterly denied that he had ever said or promised to
say mass, to gain favour with the Queen.

"I could have told you so much," said John. "My Lord Archbishop is not
the man to curry Favelle."

"Now, I had thought he rather were," said Dr Thorpe.

"One of your Lutheran fantasies," answered John.

Which rather annoyed the old man, who did not like to be reminded that
he was or had been a Lutheran; and such reminders he occasionally
received from Mr John Avery.

"Have you the news?" said Mr Rose, on the evening of the 14th of
September.

"Which news?" asked John. "We know all, methinks, touching my Lord
Archbishop, and the Bishops of Gloucester and Exeter, and that Mr Dean
is cited. What more?"

"And that Mr Latimer is had to the Tower?"

"Alack, no!" cried Isoult. "Is it assuredly so?"

"I shake hands with him on his way, and saw him go in," answered Mr
Rose, sorrowfully.

"With what cheer?"

"As bright and merry as ever I did see him. The warder at the gate was
Will Rutter, whom he knew of old; and quoth he to him, `What, my old
friend! how do you? I am now come to be your neighbour again.' And so
went in smiling, and is lodged in the garden, in Sir Thomas Palmer's
lodging."

"He is a marvellous man," replied John.

"My Lord of Canterbury," pursued Mr Rose, "like