Lord Hertford said—­

“The King’s will is law;” and, rising, returned to his former place.

Gradually the wrath faded out of the old King’s face, and he said—­

“Kiss me, my prince.  There . . . what fearest thou?  Am I not thy loving father?”

“Thou art good to me that am unworthy, O mighty and gracious lord:  that in truth I know.  But—­but—­it grieveth me to think of him that is to die, and—­”

“Ah, ’tis like thee, ’tis like thee!  I know thy heart is still the same, even though thy mind hath suffered hurt, for thou wert ever of a gentle spirit.  But this duke standeth between thee and thine honours:  I will have another in his stead that shall bring no taint to his great office.  Comfort thee, my prince:  trouble not thy poor head with this matter.”

“But is it not I that speed him hence, my liege?  How long might he not live, but for me?”

“Take no thought of him, my prince:  he is not worthy.  Kiss me once again, and go to thy trifles and amusements; for my malady distresseth me.  I am aweary, and would rest.  Go with thine uncle Hertford and thy people, and come again when my body is refreshed.”

Tom, heavy-hearted, was conducted from the presence, for this last sentence was a death-blow to the hope he had cherished that now he would be set free.  Once more he heard the buzz of low voices exclaiming, “The prince, the prince comes!”

His spirits sank lower and lower as he moved between the glittering files of bowing courtiers; for he recognised that he was indeed a captive now, and might remain for ever shut up in this gilded cage, a forlorn and friendless prince, except God in his mercy take pity on him and set him free.

And, turn where he would, he seemed to see floating in the air the severed head and the remembered face of the great Duke of Norfolk, the eyes fixed on him reproachfully.

His old dreams had been so pleasant; but this reality was so dreary!

Chapter VI.  Tom receives instructions.

Tom was conducted to the principal apartment of a noble suite, and made to sit down—­a thing which he was loth to do, since there were elderly men and men of high degree about him.  He begged them to be seated also, but they only bowed their thanks or murmured them, and remained standing.  He would have insisted, but his ‘uncle’ the Earl of Hertford whispered in his ear—­

“Prithee, insist not, my lord; it is not meet that they sit in thy presence.”

The Lord St. John was announced, and after making obeisance to Tom, he said—­

“I come upon the King’s errand, concerning a matter which requireth privacy.  Will it please your royal highness to dismiss all that attend you here, save my lord the Earl of Hertford?”

Observing that Tom did not seem to know how to proceed, Hertford whispered him to make a sign with his hand, and not trouble himself to speak unless he chose.  When the waiting gentlemen had retired, Lord St. John said—­