"It shall, your grace," said Wolsey, bending his head with a profound inclination. "Your will is law to all your faithful servants; but only let your noble goodness attribute to my deep love for your royal person the fear I have that this traitorous agent of a still greater traitor may be tempted in despair, if he find that he is discovered, to attempt some heinous crime against your grace."
"Fear not, man! fear not!" replied the king. "He, that when he might have let me die, risked his own life to save mine, will never arm his hand against me: I fear not, cardinal. So be you at ease. But return to London; see that Buckingham be closely watched; and be sure that no preparation be wanting for the meeting with Francis of France. Be liberal, be liberal, lord cardinal! I would not that the nobles of France should say they had more gold than we. Let everything be abundant, be rich, and in its flush of newness; and as to Sir Osborne Maurice, arrest him to-morrow, if he be still here. Let him be fairly tried, and if he come out pure, well. Yet still, if he be condemned, his own life shall be given him as a reward for mine. However, till tomorrow let it rest. It is my will!"
Though Wolsey would have been better pleased to have had the knight safely in the Tower, yet, even in case of his making his escape before the next morning, his great object was gained, that of banishing from the court for ever one whose rapid progress in the king's regard bade fair, with time, to leave every one behind in favour. He therefore ceased to press the king upon the subject, especially as he saw, by many indubitable signs, that Henry was in one of those imperious moods which would bear no opposition. A few subjects of less import still remained to be discussed, but the monarch bore these so impatiently, that Wolsey soon ceased to importune him upon them; and resolving to reserve all further business for some more auspicious day, he rose, and taking leave with one of those refined, yet high-coloured, compliments which no man was so capable of justly tempering as himself, he left the royal presence, and proceeded to another part of the palace on business whose object is intimately allied to the present history, as we shall see hereafter.
CHAPTER XXV.
And knowing this, should I yet stay,
Like such as blow away their lives,
Enamoured of their golden gyves?--Ben Jonson.
Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive,
It is applied to a deathful wound.--Shakspere.
Who would be a king if he could help it? When Wolsey had left him, Henry once more raised the papers which lay upon the table, and read them through; then leant his head upon his hand, and passed some moments in deep and frowning meditation. "No!" said he, "no! I will not show them to him, lest he warn the traitor Buckingham. Ho, without! Tell Pace to come to me;" and again falling into thought, he remained musing over the papers with bent brows and an absent air, till the secretary had time to obey his summons. On his approach, the good but timid Pace almost trembled at the angry glow he saw upon the king's face; but he was relieved by Henry placing in his hands the papers which Wolsey had left, bidding him have good care thereof.
Pace took the papers in respectful silence, and waited an instant to see whether the king had further commands; but Henry waved his hand, crying, "Begone! leave me, and send the page."
The page lost not a moment in appearing; for the king's hasty mood was easily discernible in his aspect, and no one dared, even by an instant's delay, to add fuel to the fire which was clearly burning in his bosom; but still Henry allowed him to wait for several minutes. "Who waits in the ante-chamber?" demanded he, at length.
"Sir Charles Hammond, so please your grace," replied the page.