“Well, all that I regret is not having it in my power to treat you as I would wish,” continued Kingston in the same tone. “I should have been so happy to have made you entirely comfortable here!”
“Come,” said Sir Thomas, “let us speak no more of that; I am very well convinced of it, and I thank you for the attachment you have shown me to-day. I only regret that I cannot be permitted to see the Bishop of Rochester for a moment.”
“Impossible!” cried Kingston. “If it were discovered, I should lose my place.”
“Then I no longer insist,” said Sir Thomas; “but let me, at least, write him a few words.”
Kingston made no reply and looked very thoughtful. He hesitated.
“Carry the letter yourself,” said Sir Thomas, “and, unless you tell it, no person will know it.”
“You think so?” said Kingston, embarrassed. “But then my Lord Rochester must burn it immediately; for if they should find it in his hands, they would try to find out how he received it; and, Sir Thomas, I know not how it is done, but they know everything.”
“They will never be able to find this out. O Master Kingston!” said More, “let me write him but one word.”
“Well, well, haste, then; for it is time I should go. If they came and asked for me, and found me not, I would be lost.”
Sir Thomas, fearing he might retract, hastened immediately to write the following words on a scrap of paper: