This was bolder speaking than he had ever ventured on before; but Cromwell was in a good humour.  The peers had proved tractable and had agreed to pass the attainder against Elizabeth Barton without any more talk of justice and the accused’s right of defence; and he looked now at Ralph with a grim approval.

“I believe you are right, Mr. Torridon.  I will think, over it.”

A week later the blow fell.

* * * * *

Cromwell looked up at him one Sunday evening as he came into the room, with his papers, and without any greeting spoke at once.

“I wish you to go to Lambeth House to-morrow morning early, Mr. Torridon.  Master More is to be there to have the Oath of Succession tendered to him with the others.  Do your best to persuade him to take it; be his true friend.”

A little grim amusement shone in his eyes as he spoke.  Ralph looked at him a moment.

“I mean it, Mr. Torridon:  do your best.  I wish him to think you his friend.”

* * * * *

As Ralph went across the Thames in a wherry the following morning, he was still thinking out the situation.  Apparently Cromwell wished to keep in friendly touch with More; and this now, of course, was only possible through Ralph, and would have been impossible if the latter’s evidence had been used, or were going to be used.  It was a relief to him to know that the consummation of his treachery was postponed at least for the present; (but he would not have called it treachery).

As Lambeth towers began to loom ahead, Ralph took out Beatrice’s letter that had come in answer to his own a few days before, and ran his eyes over it.  It was a line of passionate thanks and blessing.  Surely he had reached her hidden heart at last.  He put the letter back in his inner pocket, just before he stepped ashore.  It no doubt would be a useful evidence of his own sincerity in his interview with More.

There was a great crowd in the court as he passed through, for many were being called to take the oath, which, however, was not made strictly legal until the following Second Act in the autumn.  Several carriages were drawn up near the house door, and among them Ralph recognised the liveries of his master and of Lord Chancellor Audley.  A number of horses and mules too were tethered to rings in the wall on the other side with grooms beside them, and ecclesiastics and secretaries were coming and going, disputing in groups, calling to one another, in the pleasant April sunshine.

On enquiry he found that the Commissioners were sitting in one of the downstair parlours; but one of Cromwell’s servants at the door told him that he was not to go in there, but that Mr. More was upstairs by himself, and that if he pleased he would show him the way.

It was an old room looking on to the garden, scantily furnished, with a patch of carpet by the window and a table and chair set upon it.  More turned round from the window-seat on which he was kneeling to look out, and smiled genially as Ralph heard the servant close the door.