"We will speak of that anon. At present, it is my task to inform you, sir, that various are the complaints, petitions, and accusations against you, that daily reach my hand. And many prayers have been addressed to his royal grace the king, by the very best and noblest of the land, to induce him to re-establish the house of Fitzbernard in the lordship and estates of Chilham Castle. All these things have led me to inquire--as indeed is but my duty as chancellor of this kingdom--into the justice of your title to these estates, when I find that the case stands thus: the Earl of Fitzbernard, in the last year of his late majesty's reign, was accused by those two infamous commissioners, Empson and Dudley, and was, upon the premises, condemned to the enormous fine of one hundred thousand pounds, under the penal statutes; and, as a still further punishment for some words lightly spoken, the king, then upon his death-bed, recalled the stewardship of Dover Castle, which involved, as was supposed, the forfeiture of Chilham Castle and its lands. Was it not so?"

"It was so far, your grace," replied Sir Payan; "but allow me to observe----"

"Hush!" said the cardinal, waving his hand; "hear me, and then your observations, if you please. Such being the case, as I have said, and the wide barony of Chilham supposed to be vacant, the stewardship of Dover Castle, with those estates annexed, is bestowed upon you: how, or why, is not very apparent, though the cause alleged is service rendered in the time of Perkyn Warbeck. Now it appears, from some documents placed in the hands of Lord Dacre, of the north, by the Duke of Buckingham, that Chilham Castle was granted to Fulbert de Douvre, at a period much subsequent to the grant of the stewardship of Dover; that it was totally distinct, and held by tenure of chivalry, in fee and unalienable, except under attainder or by breach of tenure. What say you now, Sir Payan?"

"Why, simply this, your grace," replied Sir Payan, boldly: "that the good Duke of Buckingham--the noble Duke of Buckingham, as the commons call him--seems to be nearly as much my good friend as he is to the king, his royal master, or to your grace;" and, knitting his brow and clenching his teeth, he fixed his eyes upon the rose in his shoe, remaining sternly silent, to let what he had said, and what he had implied, work fully on the mind of the cardinal.

Wolsey's hatred to the princely Buckingham was well known, and Sir Payan easily understood that hatred to be the most maddening kind, called jealousy; so that not a word he had said but was meted to the taste and appetite of the cardinal with a skilful hand. The minister's cheek flushed while the knight spoke; and when, after implying by tone, and look, and manner, that he could say more, Sir Payan suddenly stopped, and bent his eyes upon the ground, Wolsey had nearly burst forth in that impatient strain of question which would have betrayed the deep anxiety he felt to snatch at any accusation against his noble rival. Checking himself, however, the politic churchman paused, and seemed to wait for some further reply, till, finding that Sir Payan still maintained his silent attitude of thought, he said--

"Have you any reason, sir, to suppose that the duke is ill-disposed towards his grace the king? Of myself I speak not. His envy touches me not personally; but where danger shows itself towards our royal master, it becomes a duty to inquire. Your insinuations, Sir Payan, were strong: you should be strongly able to support them."

"I know not, your grace," replied the knight, with the unhesitating daring that characterised all his actions, "how far a man's loyalty should properly extend; but this I know, that I am not the tame and quiet dog that fawns upon the hand that snatches its mess from before its muzzle. What I know, I know; what I suspect remains to be proved; but neither knowledge, nor suspicion, nor the clue to guide judgment through the labyrinth of wicked plotting, will I furnish to any one, with the prospect before my eyes of being deprived, for no earthly fault, of my rightful property, granted to me by the free will of our noble king Henry the Seventh."

An ominous frown gathered upon Wolsey's brow, and fain would he have possessed the thunder to strike dead the bold man who dared thus to withhold the information that he sought, and oppose him with conditions in the plenitude of his power.

"You are gifted with a strange hardihood, sir," cried he, in a voice, the slight trembling of whose tone told the boiling of the soul within. "Did you ever hear of misprision of treason--say?"

"I have, your grace," replied Sir Payan, whose bold and determined spirit was not made to quail even before that of Wolsey. Acting, however, coolly and shrewdly, he was moved by no heat as was the cardinal; and though calculating exactly the strength of his position, he knew that it was far from his interest to create an enemy in the powerful minister, who, sooner or later, would find means to avenge himself. At the same time, he saw that he must make his undisturbed possession of Chilham Castle the price of any information he could give, or that he might both yield his secret and lose his land. "I have heard, your grace," he said, "of misprision of treason, but I know not how such a thing can affect me. First, treason must be proved; then it must be shown that it was concealed with full knowledge thereof. Doubts and suspicions, your grace knows, are not within the meaning of the law."