Philips, less of a gentleman than he appeared, was the son of a tax-gatherer in Devonshire; and the pretended domestic, a disguised monk, was that crafty and vicious churchman, who had been brought from Stratford and given to the so-called gentleman—apparently as a servant, but really as his counsellor and master. Neither Wolsey, More, nor Hacket had succeeded in getting hold of Tyndale; but Gardiner, a man of innate malice and indirect measures, familiar with all holes and corners, all circumstances and persons, knew how to go to work without noise, to watch his prey in silence, and fall upon it at the very moment when he was least expected. Two things were required in order to catch Tyndale: a bait to attract him, and a bird of prey to seize him. Philips was the bait, and the monk Gabriel Dunne the bird of prey. The noble-hearted Poyntz, a man of greater experience than the reformer, had been for some time watching with inquisitive eye the new guest introduced into his house. It was of no use for Philips to try to be agreeable, there was something in him which displeased the worthy merchant.[69] 'Master Tyndale,' he said one day to the reformer, 'when did you make that person's acquaintance?'—'Oh! he's a very worthy fellow,' replied the doctor, 'well-educated and a thorough gentleman.' Poyntz said no more.

Meanwhile the monk had returned from Louvain, where he had gone to consult with some leaders of the ultramontane party. If he and his companion could gain Mr. Poyntz, it would be easy to lay hold of Tyndale. They thought it would be sufficient to show the merchant that they had money, imagining that every man was to be bought. One day Philips said to Poyntz: 'I am a stranger here, and should feel much obliged if you would show me Antwerp.' They went out together. Philips thought the moment had come to let Poyntz know that he was well supplied with gold, and even had some to give to others. 'I want to make several purchases,' he said, 'and you would greatly oblige me by directing me. I want the best goods. I have plenty of money,' he added.[70] He then took a step farther, and sounded his man to try whether he would aid him in his designs. As Poyntz did not seem to understand him, Philips went no farther.

=IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT CONSULTED.=

As stratagem did not succeed, it was necessary to resort to force. Philips by Gabriel's advice set out for Brussels in order to prepare the blow that was to strike Tyndale. The emperor and his ministers had never been so irritated against England and the Reformation. The troops of Charles V. were in motion, and people expected to hear every moment that war had broken out between the emperor and the king.[71] On arriving at Brussels the young Englishman appeared at court and waited on the government: he declared that he was a Roman catholic disgusted with the religious reforms in England and devoted to the cause of Catherine. He explained to the ministers of Charles V. that they had in the Low Countries the man who was poisoning the kingdom; and that if they put Tyndale to death, they would save the papacy in England. The emperor's ministers, delighted to see Englishmen making common cause with them against Henry VIII., conceded to Gardiner's delegate all that he asked. Philips, sparing no expense to attain his end,[72] returned to Antwerp, accompanied by the imperial prosecutor and other officers of the emperor.

It was important to arrest Tyndale without having recourse to the city authorities, and even without their knowledge. Had not the hanseatic judges the strange audacity to declare, in Harman's case, that they could not condemn a man without positive proof? The monk, who probably had not gone to Brussels, undertook to reconnoitre the ground. One day, when Poyntz was sitting at his door,[73] Gabriel went up to him and said: 'Is Master Tyndale at home? My master desires to call upon him.' They entered into conversation. Everything seemed to favor the monk's designs: he learnt that in three or four days Poyntz would be going to Bar-le-Duc, where he would remain about six weeks. It was just what Gabriel wanted, for he dreaded the piercing eye of the English merchant.

=TREACHERY OF PHILIPS.=

Shortly after this, Philips arrived in Antwerp with the prosecutor and his officers. The former went immediately to Poyntz's house, where he found only the wife at home. 'Does Master Tyndale dine at home to-day?' he said. 'I have a great desire to dine with him. Have you anything good to give us?' 'What we can get in the market,' she replied laconically.[74] 'Good, good,' said the perfidious papist as he turned away.

The new Judas hurried to meet the officers, and agreed with them upon the course to be adopted. When the dinner-hour drew near, he said: 'Come along, I will deliver him to you.' The imperial prosecutor and his followers, with Philips and the monk, proceeded towards Poyntz's house, carefully noting everything and taking the necessary measures not to attract observation. The entrance to the house was by a long narrow passage. Philips placed some of the agents a little way down the street; others, near the entrance of the alley. 'I shall come out with Tyndale,' he told the agents; 'and the man I point out with my finger, is the one you will seize.' With these words Philips entered the house; it was about noon.

The creature was exceedingly fond of money; he had received a great deal from the priests in England for the payment of his mission; but he thought it would be only right to plunder his victim, before giving him up to death. Finding Tyndale at home, he said to him, after a few compliments: 'I must tell you my misfortune. This morning I lost my purse between here and Mechlin,[75] and I am penniless. Could you lend me some money?' Tyndale, simple and inexperienced in the tricks of the world,[76] went to fetch the required sum, which was equivalent to thirty pounds sterling. The delighted Philips put the gold carefully in his pocket, and then thought only of betraying his kind-hearted friend. 'Well, Master Tyndale,' he said, 'we are going to dine together.' 'No,' replied the doctor, 'I am going to dine out to-day; come along with me, I will answer for it that you will be welcome.' Philips joyfully consented; promptitude of execution was one element of success in his business. The two friends prepared to start. The alley by which they had to go out was (as we have said) so narrow that two persons could not walk abreast. Tyndale, wishing to do the honors to Philips, desired him to go first. 'I will never consent,' replied the latter, pretending to be very polite.[77] 'I know the respect due to you—it is for you to lead the way.' Then taking the doctor respectfully by the hand, he led him into the passage. Tyndale, who was of middle height, went first, while Philips, who was very tall, came behind him. He had placed two agents at the entrance, who were sitting at each side of the alley. Hearing footsteps they looked up and saw the innocent Tyndale approaching them without suspicion, and over his shoulders the head of Philips. He was a lamb led to slaughter by the man who was about to sell him. The officers of justice, frequently so hardhearted, experienced a feeling of compassion at the sight.[78] But the traitor, raising himself behind the reformer, who was about to enter the street, placed his forefinger over Tyndale's head, according to the signal which had been agreed upon, and gave the men a significant look, as if to say to them, 'This is he!' The men at once laid hands upon Tyndale who, in his holy simplicity, did not at first understand what they intended doing. He soon found it out; for they ordered him to move on, the officers following him, and he was thus taken before the imperial prosecutor. The latter who was at dinner invited Tyndale to sit down with him. Then ordering his servants to watch him carefully, the magistrate set off for Poyntz's house. He seized the papers, books, and all that had belonged to the reformer; and returning home, placed him with the booty in a carriage, and departed. The night came on, and after a drive of about three hours they arrived in front of the strong castle of Vilvorde, built in 1375 by duke Wenceslaus, situated two or three leagues from Brussels on the banks of the Senne, surrounded on all sides by water and flanked by seven towers. The drawbridge was lowered, and Tyndale was delivered into the hands of the governor, who put him into a safe place. The reformer of England was not to leave Vilvorde, as Luther left the Wartburg. This occurred, as it would appear, in August 1535.[79]

=TYNDALE IMPRISONED.=