“Should Osbert Clinton venture hither, arrest him, and keep him in close confinement till you learn my pleasure.”
“May I make bold to inquire if your Majesty has any reason to suspect that he will come?” said Rodomont.
“It matters not what I suspect. Do as I command you.”
“Your injunctions shall be obeyed, Sire,” returned Rodomont. “And for his own sake I hope Master Osbert Clinton may keep away.”
At this moment a tall Franciscan friar, with the cowl of his grey robe drawn over his head, was seen marching slowly along the court-yard. He directed his steps towards the Lollards’ Tower, and on reaching it stayed at the doorway, where he remained in converse with Mallet, the keeper.
“Who is yon monk, and what is his errand?” demanded the King, who had been watching him with some curiosity.
“I know him not, Sire—he is a stranger,” replied Rodomont. “Apparently he is seeking admittance to one of the prisoners, which Mallet, the keeper, is unwilling to grant. Perchance, it may be Mistress Constance Tyrrell whom he desires to see.”
“Bring him before me, I will question him,” said Philip.
Rodomont instantly obeyed, and shortly afterwards returned with the friar and Mallet. The Franciscan made a humble obeisance to the King, but did not attempt to raise his hood.
“An please your Majesty, this holy man is from Winchester,” said Mallet. “He is charged by Father Jerome of Saint Catherine’s Chapel on the Hill, with a message to Mistress Constance Tyrrell. Is it not so?” he added to the monk.