"And he loves you?"
"Indeed, I am most certain of it."
"When did you hear last from him?"
Jane had expected this question and she offered Cromwell Cluny's last letter, and asked him to read it. He read it aloud, letting his voice become sweet and tender as he did so.
"My dearest and most honoured mistress, I am just on the moment of leaving Paris; my horse is at the door; but by a messenger that will come more directly than myself, I send you a last word from this place. My thoughts outreach all written words. I am with you, my own dear one, in all my best moments, and my unchangeable love salutes you. Graciously remember me in your love and prayers.
"CLUNY NEVILLE."
"A good letter, Jane. I do think the man that wrote it is beyond guile, beyond dishonour of any kind. I will not hear a doubt of him. I will not——" With these words he rose, and taking Jane's hand in his, he began to walk with her, up and down the room. His clasp was so hot and tight she could have cried out, but glancing into his face she saw it was only the physical expression of thoughts he did not care to give words to. In a few minutes he touched a bell, and when it was answered said, "Mr. Tasburg to my presence—without delay." Mr. Tasburg came without delay, and Cromwell turned to him in some passion.
"Mark Tasburg," he said scornfully, "I know not whether you have been alive or dead. I have not once heard from you in the matter of Lord Neville's delay; I have not, and that you know. The commission for your search is more than a month old; it is, sir; and I like not such delays. I will not have them."
"My Lord Protector, I reported to Mr. Thurloe and Mr. Milton that my search had been of no avail."
"Who gave you the order to make this search?"