"Are we to understand, your Grace, that your Grace"s clemency is extended to Mr. Ralph Torridon?"
"Eh! then," said the King peevishly, "hold your tongue, my Lord. I am trying to remember. Where is Michael?"
"Shall I call him, your Grace?"
"Nay, then; let the lawyer ring the bell!"
Mr. Herries sprang to the table at the King"s gesture, and struck the little hand-bell that stood there. The door where the page had disappeared five minutes before opened silently, and the servant stood there.
"Michael," said the King, and the page vanished.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Cranmer stood back a little with an air of patient deference, and his quick eyes glanced up now and again at the party before him. There was a certain uneasiness in his manner, as Chris could see; but the monk presently dropped his eyes again, as he saw that the King was once more looking at him keenly, with tight pursed lips, and a puzzled look on his forehead.
The thoughts began to race through Chris"s brain. He found himself praying with desperate speed that Michael, whoever he was, might not know; and that the King might not remember; and meanwhile through another part of his being ran the thought of the irony of his situation.
Here he was, come to plead for his brother"s life, and on the brink of having to plead for his own. The quiet room increased his sense of the irony. It seemed so safe and strong and comfortable, up here in the rich room, with the tall window looking on to the sunlit river, in a palace girt about with guards; and yet the very security of it was his danger.
He had penetrated into the stronghold of the great beast that ruled England: he was within striking distance of those red-stained claws and teeth.
Then suddenly the creature stirred and snarled.
"I know it now, sir. You were one of the knaves that would not sign the surrender of Lewes."
Chris lifted his eyes and dropped them again.
"G.o.d"s Body," said the King, "and you come here!"
Again there was silence.
Chris saw his father half turn towards him with a piteous face, and perceived that the lawyer had drawn a little away.
The King turned abruptly to Cranmer.
"Did you know this, my Lord?"
"Before G.o.d, I did not!"--but his voice shook as he answered.
Chris was gripping his courage, and at last spoke.
"We were told it was a free-will act, your Grace."
Henry said nothing to this. His eyes were rolling up and down the monk"s figure, with tight, thoughtful lips. Cranmer looked desperately at Sir James.
"I did not know that, your Grace," he said again. "I only knew that this priest"s brother had been very active in your Grace"s business."
Henry turned sharply.
"Eh?" he said.
Sir James"s hands rose and clasped themselves instinctively. Cranmer again looked at him almost fiercely.
"Mr. Ralph Torridon was one of the Visitors," explained the Archbishop nervously.
"And this fellow a monk!" cried the King.
"They must have met at Lewes, your Grace."
"Ah! my Lord," cried Sir James suddenly. "I entreated you--"
Henry turned on him suddenly.
"Tell us the tale, sir. What is all this?"
Sir James took a faltering step forward, and then suddenly threw out his hands.
"Ah! your Grace, it is a bitter tale for a father to tell. It is true, all of it. My son here was a monk at Lewes. He would not sign the surrender. I--I approved him for it. I--I was there when my son Ralph cast him out--"
"G.o.d"s blood!" cried the King with a beaming face. "The one brother cast the other out!"
Chris saw the Archbishop"s face suddenly lighten as he watched the King sideways.
"But I cannot bear that he should be saved for that!" went on the old man piteously. "He was a good servant to your Grace, but a bad one to our Lord--"
The Archbishop drew a swift breath of horror, and his hands jerked. But Henry seemed not to hear; his little mouth had opened in a round hole of amazed laughter, and he was staring at the old man without hearing him.
"And you were there?" he said. "And your wife? And your aunts and sisters?"
"My wife is dead," cried the old man. "Your Grace--"
"And on which side was she?"
"She was--was on your Grace"s side."
Henry threw himself back in his chair.
For one moment Chris did not know whether it was wrath or laughter that shook him. His face grew crimson, and his narrow eyes disappeared into shining slits; his fat hands were on his knees, and his great body shook. From his round open mouth came silent gusts of quick breath, and he began to sway a little from side to side.
Across the Archbishop"s face came a deferential and sympathetic smile, and he looked quickly and nervously from the King to the group and back again. Sir James had fallen back a pace at the King"s laughter, and stood rigid and staring. Chris took a step close to him and gripped his hand firmly.
There was a footstep behind, and the King leaned forward again, wiping the tears away with his sleeve.
"Oh, Michael, Michael!" he sobbed, "here is a fine tale."
A dark-dressed man stepped forward from behind, and stood expectant.
"G.o.d! What a happy family!" said the King. "And this fellow here?"
He motioned towards Nicholas, with a feeble gesture. He was still weak with laughter.