Ellis were made baronets—­he was out again for an hour on the 17th; and thence till Friday the 20th he seemed so much better that Thurloe and others thought the danger past.  From the public at large the fact of his illness had been hitherto concealed as much as possible; and hence it may have been that on two or three of those days of convalescence he showed himself as usual, riding with his life-guards in Hampton Court Park.  It was on one of them, most probably Friday the 20th, that George Fox had that final meeting with him which he describes in his Journal.  The good but obtrusive Quaker had been writing letters of condolence and mystical religious advice to Lady Claypole in her illness, and had recently sent one of mixed condolence and rebuke to Cromwell himself; and now, not knowing of Cromwell’s own illness, he had come to have a talk with him about the sufferings of the Friends.  “Before I came to him, as he rode at the head of his life-guard,” says Fox, “I saw and felt a waft of death go forth, against him; and, when I came to him, he looked like a dead man.”  Fox, nevertheless, had his conversation with the Protector, who told him to come again, but does not seem to have mentioned the inquiry he had been making, through his secretary Mr. Malyn, about the state of Fox’s fellow-Quaker, poor James Nayler.  Next day, Saturday, Aug. 21, when Fox went to Hampton Court Palace to keep his appointment, he could not be admitted.  Harvey, the groom of the bedchamber, told him that his Highness was very ill, with his physicians about him, and must be kept quiet.  That morning his distemper had developed itself distinctly into “an ague”; which ague proved, within the next few days, to be of the kind called by the physicians “a bastard tertian,” i.e. an ague with the cold and hot shivering fits recurring most violently every third day, but with the intervals also troublesome.  Yet it was on this first day of his ague that he signed a warrant for a patent to make Bulstrode Whitlocke a Viscount.  Whitlocke himself, though he afterwards declined the honour as inconvenient, is precise as to the date.  The physicians thinking the London air better for the malady than that of Hampton Court, his Highness was removed to Whitehall on Tuesday the 24th.  That was one of the intervals of his fever, and he seems to have come up easily enough in his coach, and to have been quite able to take an interest in what he found going on at Whitehall.  Six days before (Aug. 18) the Duke of Buckingham, who had been for some time in London undisturbed, living in his mansion of York House with his recently wedded wife, and with Lord and Lady Fairfax in their society, had been apprehended on the high-road some miles from Canterbury; and, whether on the old grounds, or from new suspicions, the Council, by a warrant issued on the 19th, doubtless with Cromwell’s sanction intimated from Hampton Court, had committed him to the Tower.  On the very day of Cromwell’s return to Whitehall this business of the Duke was