The statesman, who had all his life been wont to take the measure of men with great acumen and discernment, gave more than one quick, keen glance in the direction of Dalaber, as he received Arthur’s credentials and cast his eye over them.

“You are welcome, Master Cole.  I have heard of you before, and everything I have heard redounds to your credit.  You are highly spoken of in Oxford, and your career there has not been without distinction.  I am keenly interested in all that happens there, and in the welfare of each individual clerk and student.  To hear a good report of any gives me sincere pleasure.  I am glad on that account to give you this audience, albeit I am always pressed for time in which to compress each day’s work.”

“I thank your Eminence from my heart,” answered Arthur; “and if I be permitted to speak, I will be as brief as I can in presenting my petition and pleading my Cause.”

“You come with a petition?  Very good; I will listen and consider it.  Is it one that relates to yonder companion of yours?—­

“Anthony Dalaber, I believe I mistake not in calling you by that name.”

Dalaber came a step forward, but made no reply, for Arthur had answered for him, and the cardinal was turning over some papers upon his table, and selecting one or two, ran his eyes rapidly down them, after which he looked up.

“I hear of you that you are a youth of excellent parts, and of a quick understanding, and that, with industry and application, you may do great things.  I also hear that though you have been led into some indiscretions and dangerous courses, that you have submitted to lawful discipline, and are forgiven and reconciled.  All this is as it should be.  I rejoice in the repentance of any sinner.  I pray, my son, that in the future you may be guarded from all such perilous courses.”

Arthur almost trembled as these words were spoken.  The cardinal’s wonderful eyes were fixed full upon the face of Dalaber, and the magnetic nature of the glance seemed to act with a curious, restraining power upon him.  He spoke, but it was not with the outburst which his comrade had feared.  It was slowly and almost haltingly.

“I have done amiss,” he said.  “None can better know than I how much amiss I have done.  I repent me from the bottom of my heart.  But I repent not of those things for which I suffered in prison, for which I thought I might be called upon to lay down my life.  I repent me that I, having put mine hand to the plough, did look back.  I would I had had the courage and steadfastness to resist and stand firm.”

Arthur trembled; his eyes sought the cardinal’s face.  Wolsey was regarding Dalaber with great intensity of interest, whilst a fine smile played in shadowy fashion over his thin lips.

“Is that what you have come hither to tell me, my son?”