* * *

THE SEIGNEUR DE PRAET stood before the Cardinal in the latter’s private chamber at Hampton Court. The Flemish nobleman looked with something like scorn at the red satin garments of the Chancellor; he had felt incensed, as he disembarked at the privy stairs and walked across the grass, at the sight of that magnificent edifice; but when he had entered the place and seen the gloriously apparelled servants, the valuable treasures in every room, he had said to himself: Is it possible that a man of the people could own so much? He was resentful, believing possessions and honors to be the prerogative of the nobility.

It was easy when he was not in the presence of Cardinal Wolsey to sneer at his origins; when he stood before him he could not help being conscious of the man’s intellectual power; the rather protruding brown eyes of the man of the people seemed to look into his mind, discovering his secret thoughts, to suggest that the reason he clung to the importance of his noble birth was because, knowing himself at a mental disadvantage, he sought to flaunt every little asset he possessed.

Archbishop of York, Cardinal, Papal Legate and Chancellor. So many great titles for one man to hold—and he a man who had risen from the people. In spite of one’s prejudices, one must feel in awe of such achievements.

He was received almost haughtily by the Cardinal’s stewards. They would make His Eminence aware of the Seigneur’s arrival. Had His Eminence summoned him to Hampton Court? Because if this was not so, they doubted whether they could disturb His Eminence at such an hour.

This was an insult. It did not occur to him that it might be intended. He presumed the servants to be ignorant of his standing.

“Tell the Cardinal,” he said in his haughtiest manner, “that the Ambassador of His Imperial Highness, The Emperor of Austria and the King of Spain, calls upon him at his own wish.”

He was kept waiting for fifteen minutes and then, fuming with rage, was led through the eight splendid rooms to the Cardinal’s private apartment. Wolsey was seated at his table and did not rise when the ambassador entered.

What can one expect of a butcher’s son? de Praet asked himself.

Wolsey continued to study the paper before him for a few seconds until de Praet said angrily: “I have come as you asked me to, my Lord Cardinal.”

“Oh, yes,” said Wolsey, laying aside the paper with what appeared to be reluctance. “I have bad news for you, Mr. Ambassador.”

There was insult in the title and de Praet felt the blood rushing to his face. Was he, the Emperor’s ambassador, to be kept standing while the Cardinal remained sitting at his desk! He might be a servant come to receive a reprimand.

“Bad news!” he cried. “What bad news is this?”

“Your courier was arrested last night and certain documents were taken from him.”

“My courier! This is an insult to the Emperor.”

“It happened quite naturally,” explained the Cardinal. “He delayed his departure until the gates of the city were closed. As you may know, the law says that all foreigners, attempting to enter or leave the city after the gates are closed, are arrested and searched.”

“But he should have left before that. What delayed him?”

The Cardinal lifted his shoulders and smiled. “It is useless to ask me to keep an eye on your servants, Seigneur. This is what has happened. The letters you have written to the Emperor were brought before me. I had no recourse but to read them. We have to be very careful when dealing with those whom we believe to be spies. As it so happened I considered the contents of those letters treasonable, and I saw that it was my duty to lay them before the King.”

De Praet was startled. He remembered the frankness with which he discussed the King and Cardinal in his letters to his master; he remembered the slighting comments he had made about them both—particularly this man who was now smiling blandly at him.

“His Grace,” went on Wolsey, “was much displeased. It seemed to him that we have been harboring an enemy in our midst.”

De Praet shouted: “You have done this. You had the man arrested. It is a plot.”

“And the letters? Shall you say that I wrote those treasonable documents?” Wolsey demanded with a smile.

“They were intended for the Emperor.”

“I did not expect for a moment that they were intended for the King and myself.”

“I shall go to the King,” said de Praet. “I have evidence against you, Master Wolsey. I know that you have been receiving a spy from France. I know that you are working to destroy the alliance between the King and the Emperor. The King does not know the Cardinal whom he trusts. If he did he would not trust him. But he shall know. I have the evidence. I shall go back to my house; and when I have collected this evidence, which shall bear out my word, I will lose no time in going to the King and laying before him all I have discovered.”

Wolsey continued to smile, and the ambassador turned and walked quickly out of the apartments. The Cardinal went to the window and watched him hurrying across the grass to his boat.

“Helpful of him to explain his intentions in such detail,” he murmured to himself, and then called his stewards to him and began to give orders.

De Praet cursed the slowness of his boat as he was rowed back to London. His indignation increased as he rehearsed what he would say to the King.

When he reached his house he went in and collected certain documents which he had kept in a safe place, and made a careful list of all the people he would call as witnesses against the Cardinal.

Then he was ready to set out for Greenwich. But as he attempted to leave his house two guards barred his way. He saw then that many of them were stationed about his house.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded fiercely, but his fierceness had no effect on the guards.

“Begging Your Excellency’s pardon,” said one of them, “you are not to leave this house.”

“Who dares to restrict the Imperial ambassador?”

“The King, Your Excellency.”

De Praet was so angry that for a moment he could find no words to express his indignation; but as he grew a little calmer he realized that he was defeated. They called him the King’s prisoner, but he was in truth that of the Cardinal.

Yet, he reflected, in this country that was one and the same thing.


* * *

WITH SATISFACTION Wolsey presented himself to the King.

“The spy is a prisoner in his lodging,” he said. “He can do little harm now.”

“Let him remain so,” said Henry, who was still smarting from the references to himself in the ambassador’s correspondence; accustomed to flattery he was always surprised when he did not receive it, and on those rare occasions when he discovered disparaging comments had been made about him he never failed to be deeply shocked.

This was the moment to drive home the advantage, and Wolsey murmured: “It may be that Your Grace will see fit to acquaint our own ambassador with your horror. It is for the Emperor to send us an ambassador, not a spy.”

“I shall write to Dr. Sampson and command him to express my displeasure to the Emperor.”

“Your Grace is wise. It is as well that he should be acquainted with your displeasure. In this campaign he has had all the advantages.”

Henry scowled but he believed that what Wolsey said was true.

“Your Grace,” went on the Chancellor, “as you know, I am ever watchful and I have discovered that there are in England at this moment emissaries from France.”

The King’s face flamed, and Wolsey with great temerity continued before he could speak: “If Your Grace would but see these men there would be no necessity to commit yourself in any way. But in view of the manner in which the Emperor has behaved towards us, I personally see little harm in listening to these men. It may be that Your Grace, in his greater wisdom, has some reason for not wishing to see them. If that is so, then I shall see that they are sent back to France without delay.”

“Were it not for the betrothal to our daughter, Thomas, I should be seeking a way out of this alliance.”

“We must remember the importance of this match,” agreed Wolsey. “But could we not say that this is a matter apart? If we listened to the French we could then perhaps use their desire for friendship to extract some advantage from the Emperor. Your Grace knows full well that we have had little so far.”

“I know it well.” The King hesitated. “I see no harm in listening to what these men have to say.”

Wolsey consolidated his gains before the King had time to withdraw.

“I beg of Your Grace to come to Hampton Court; I shall send for the men, and if you see them there it will make less talk than if they came to Greenwich.”

The King was agreeable. He was beginning to take a deep interest in Hampton Court, and the Cardinal had thought somewhat uneasily that occasionally he saw an acquisitive gleam in the blue eyes. “I will come to your fair manor, Thomas,” he said. “I confess to a fondness for the place.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And there’s something else, I confess. My own palaces look a little less grand, less like the residences of a King, after my visits to Hampton Court.”

“I have furnished the place that it might be a refuge for Your Grace at any time it is your pleasure and my delight that you visit it.”

“Then let us see these men from France at Hampton, Thomas.”

Victory! thought the Cardinal. But in a measure uneasy victory. The King had changed since Buckingham’s execution. Often one had the feeling that he was eager to prove the power he had over all men—including his dear friend and counsellor, Thomas Wolsey.