CHAPTER XII.

DID HE LOVE HER?

DURING this year, 1523, the hopes of Wolsey were again raised, that he

might become Pope by the help of the Emperor Charles; and so he paid

assiduous court to Queen Catherine, as well as the King himself: and,

great as he was in his business capacity, this wonderful man was no

less remarkable as a courtier; for, to humour the King, he could throw

off the cares of state, and enter with as much seeming zest into the

roystering fun of the Court, as even the King himself could desire, so

that in his great Chancellor Henry the Eighth found a boon companion,

as well as a wise counsellor!

It was during this time, too, that Miles Paton began to understand how

boundless was his master's ambition, and how eager he was to attain the

highest honour earth could afford, by mounting the papal throne, which

would make him the master of his present master the King.

Confidential letters were written by Miles to one and the other about

the Court of the Emperor, all having the same end in view—the putting

forward the claim of Wolsey to the tiara that had once more been laid

aside.

He was therefore in somewhat close attendance upon his master for

some weeks, and could give but small attention to his father and the

business that had brought him to London. Sir Thomas fumed, and fretted,

and grumbled about this, for he was by no means content in the lodging

he had taken; and, though he managed to find out some old friends who

had served with him in the wars, he still pined for his home, and the

company of his wife and daughter, and was only half-reconciled to his

son serving under Wolsey, although he received a good salary for his

services, and was handsomely provided for among other gentlemen of his

own rank in life.

Moreover, he had set his heart upon repeating the royal experiment, in

marrying Miles to the Lady Audrey; and that Miles should not be willing

to follow his advice in the matter fretted him sorely.

The young man sheltered himself behind the argument that they could

not afford to purchase a special dispensation from the Pope, to enable

them to contract such a marriage legally. And again, the cost of this

would be so heavy as to outweigh all the advantages likely to accrue,

by holding the lady and her dowry still in the family. But Sir Thomas

was not easy to be convinced when he had set his heart upon a certain

thing, and so Master William Tyndale and his translation had but scanty

attention for a time, although Miles had by no means forgotten his

friend, or what would have to be the next step when the whole of the

books of the New Testament were done into English.

So, with this next further step in view, he took his father one day to

see the printing presses of William Caxton, that were still at work in

Westminster, and being rapidly improved by the introduction of new type

and skilled workmen from some of the best printers abroad.

There was also a second printing press now, close to Temple Bar, which

they also visited, and where Miles made cautious enquiries to discover

if possible whether it would be wise to try and get their book printed

in London when it was ready.

The Cardinal took a good deal of interest in these printing works

and their improvement, and regarded printing as a most wonderful and

beneficent gift to the world of learning, but he did not want this

to spread too far—not to become common, as the gift of sunshine and

rain; and therefore it was not clear to Miles yet whether Wolsey would

approve or oppose the printing of the New Testament in English.

But, as one of the private secretaries of the man who was king all but

in name, Miles was everywhere received with the greatest courtesy,

and his questions answered fully, for they did not know but that the

Cardinal had sent him on this mission; and so Miles gathered a good

deal of useful information as to the cost of printing, and the time

it was likely to take, and picked up many hints as to the size of the

sheets to be printed, which he was careful to give his friend the next

time he saw him, and had an opportunity for a little private talk to

themselves.

The net result of his enquiries were that they both concluded it would

be safer to get the book printed at one of the continental printing

presses, for Miles learned quite accidentally that the Cardinal had a

private emissary of his own among these workmen, and everything that

went on at the works was reported to His Eminence, so that if the

Testament was sent there to be printed he would hear of it in a few

hours from this spy. There was little doubt that there was one also at

the Temple Bar printer's, so that altogether it seemed inevitable that

their treasure should be printed on the continent.

When there was a little leisure from his attendance upon the Cardinal,

Miles with his father went by barge from Westminster to Greenwich to

see Sir Harry Guildford and his family.

As he anticipated, Sir Harry Guildford was found in his room at the

palace, and welcomed Sir Thomas, and spoke in warm commendation of

Miles. But Sir Thomas was not so pleased about this; Miles was his

son, and he had done all he could to make his father's visit to London

pleasant, and also had used all the influence he possessed to further

his business; but this was of small account to the old man, as he still

refused to think of Lady Audrey as his future wife, and there was still

the old grievance about the farms outstanding still, so that to Sir

Harry's commendation Sir Thomas gave little more than a dissatisfied

grunt.

When they reached the family mansion in the town, and the old man saw

how warmly his offending son was welcomed by the girls and boys, as

well as by Lady Guildford herself, he grew silent and grim once more.

Of course he was elaborately polite to his hostess, and civil towards

the young people, but Miles could see that it cost an effort, and he

was not much surprised when, an hour later, his father declared that he

must go back to Westminster at once.

"But, father, the rowers have scarce had time to rest after their long

pull—and we must wait until the tide turns," said Miles, in a tone of

expostulation.

They had come down in one of the Cardinal's private barges, and the

men had gone to enjoy themselves at one of the alehouses in the

neighbourhood of the river.

But the old man declared he must go back at once, and Miles was

compelled to go in search of the boatmen, and ask them to have the

barge in readiness the moment the tide turned. As he went back he met

his father, to his great surprise, and once more he explained that they

must wait a little longer—a half-an-hour at least—and so they might as

well go back to Sir Harry Guildford's.

"You shall never enter that house again!" stormed the old man. Miles

looked at him in dumb amazement, but as they were in the street, he

drew him towards the park, where they could have their talk with fewer

listeners passing.

Miles began to think his father had gone crazy on the subject of this

marriage, for it seemed that Sir Thomas had discovered what Miles

himself scarcely knew until the fact was stated to him. And then it

seemed that the knowledge flooded over him, making him almost oblivious

of what his father was saying, in the rush of joyful enlightenment that

suddenly threatened to overwhelm him.

"This Cicely Guildford is no match for you," Sir Thomas was saying,

when Miles stopped him with an imperative "Hush, father! You know not

what you are saying."

"Ah you take me for a blind fool then, I suppose," foamed the old man

in his wrath. "You bring me here to see this girl, and think I shall

see no more than if she was her sister Elizabeth."

"I know not what you have seen, sir," said Miles, his voice trembling,

"but I can assure you—"

"And I say you are a liar, if you are my son, for it is plain as the

nose on your face that you are in love with the wench, and she with

you!"

"Father! father! remember you are speaking of a lady who is quite a

stranger to you."

"And you would have me believe she is a stranger to you too, I

suppose," sneered Sir Thomas.

"Nay, father—did I not tell you that Sir Harry Guildford had been good

enough to welcome me as a friend of his family? I told you that I came

to Greenwich sometimes to visit these friends, as well as when my duty

of attending the Cardinal brought me to the Court."

"But you did not tell me that you were in love with this girl!"

Miles was about to say that he did not know it himself, until his

father made the discovery; but he thought it would be wiser to be

silent about this, until he had had the opportunity of seeing Mistress

Cicely again, when perhaps he might be better able to judge whether his

father's surmise was correct as to her feeling towards him.

Now, however, in the confusion and tumult of his feelings—hopes and

fears—he could only feel thankful that he was not obliged to go back at

once and face his friends, for how could he speak calmly to Mistress

Cicely, until he had time to put his own thoughts in order? So he was

not sorry when the barge was pushed off from the Palace stairs: and the

presence of the rowers at one end, though it did not prevent talking,

hindered his father from scolding and raving, as he might have done.

The old knight, however, was no less earnest in pressing upon him the

claims of Lady Audrey; until at last, for peace sake, Miles agreed that

the case of such a marriage should be submitted to some learned priest,

that an independent opinion might be obtained upon that point before

any more was said about it; though he was careful at the same time to

guard against giving any hope, that he would follow the royal example

in this matter of his marriage.

But having conceded this much, he was allowed to sit in silence and

think of Mistress Cicely Guildford, and wonder he had not discovered

the secret of his own heart before. Rude fingers had torn away the veil

that hid it from himself, yet, he could not but feel thankful that he

had taken his father to pay this visit; though he felt equally thankful

that the business which had brought his father to London was well-nigh

settled, and that he would go back to Woodstock in a few days.

But Sir Thomas was determined to have some legal, as well as Church

opinion, about the proposed marriage with Lady Audrey; and, if it

should be favourable to his wishes, then he would take a house in

London, and send for the young widow and her mother, that the marriage

might be brought about with as little delay as possible. So, while

Miles sat and dreamed of the sweet pure face he had learned to love,

his father was wondering where he had better go for advice for the

delicate business he was contemplating.

Hitherto Miles had been at his service in every emergency; but Miles

was not to be trusted in this matter, and so he sought counsel of a

chance acquaintance he had made during his stay.

"You need a learned priest, and a man well versed in the law," said his

new friend.

"Well now, there is a priest who preaches sometimes at St. Dunstan's,

and I have heard the gossips say that there is not another in London

like him for learning. Why not seek him out, and lay the matter before

him? The man of law is more easily found, and I will take you to one on

whose judgment you can rely."

So Miles was told the next day that this friend was going to take his

father to see some other part of London; and the two went together to

lay the matter before the lawyer first.

But when the client stated the case the man of law was too wary to give

a direct opinion.

"Marriage is a Sacrament of the Church, and therefore can only be

decided by the Church," he said. "We have a royal example that such

marriages can be made legal by help of the Pope, and therefore I cannot

say they are illegal for others."

It was small comfort, perhaps, to Sir Thomas, but he was glad enough of

it, and, as he had no idea that Master William Tyndale was a friend of

his son's, he went without scruple to "The Sign of the Golden Fleece,"

and asked to see the priest Master William Tyndale.

But Sir Thomas thought he would be more cautious this time, and not

give his name, so he simply told Monmouth, whom he saw at the door of

his shop, that he wanted to see the priest on a matter of conscience,

and he was taken upstairs, and Master William Tyndale sent for to see

this grim-looking old penitent, as the merchant thought him. He was not

the first who had come on the same errand, for here in London there

were many strangers coming and going, who had not their own parish

priest at hand, upon whom the burden troubling their conscience could

be laid; so that from preaching in St. Dunstan's Master Tyndale had

become the recipient of many strange confessions.

Owing to these visits having been paid before, a little room had been

set apart for this use, so that strangers were not taken to the little

bare closet where his work of translation was being done; and to this

room Master Tyndale was summoned.

The stranger placed before him the case of Miles and Lady Audrey, but

carefully suppressed all names, or any allusion to that of the King.

The priest, however, at once pointed out that the two were almost

precisely similar, further observing,—"And I do not hesitate to say

that such marriages are against the law of the Church and the law of

the land. For State policy this royal marriage was allowed to take

place, but God bath not prospered it, for the King has no heir to live.

There is but the Lady Mary, and how know we that the distaff can rule

in this realm of England?"

"I care not who rules England so that my son may rule a goodly estate

by-and-bye," growled the old man. He was by no means grateful for such

an outspoken opinion upon the matter, and he rose from his seat and

went down the winding stair, forgetting to leave the customary gift for

the priest in his anger.

He only vouchsafed a grunt to the merchant, as he asked if he had seen

Master Tyndale, and then hurried away towards Temple Bar.

Nothing seemed to come of these enquiries, but men's minds were turned

to consider the King's marriage with his deceased brother's widow, and

thus prepare the way for events in the future which at present were

undreamed of by any, unless it was the man who ruled England both in

Church and State matters.

Miles was startled by the announcement that his father made to him a

day or two after their visit to Greenwich. Sir Thomas sent for him one

day, and announced that he was going home at once. He had met with a

party of gentlemen who were to start with their servants from "The

Magpie" the next morning, and Sir Thomas had decided to journey with

them as far as Oxford.

"But why should you be in such haste, father?" said Miles. "The

business that brought you to the Chancellor's Court is not quite

settled yet,—why not stay a day or two longer? There is no lack of

travellers going from 'The Magpie' to Oxford."

But Sir Thomas shook his head. "I must get back," he said, "for it may

be I shall have business with the Pope."

"Then it will go through my master's hand," said Miles, "for, as

Cardinal Legate, he has the settlement of all disputes, and the

granting of all dispensations for this realm. But, my father, be wary

how you invoke the help of the law in any quarrel. You say our estate

is sorely impoverished by the changes that are going on; do not waste

the substance that remains for any shadow the law can give you of

future benefits." Miles ventured to say this much, because he knew how

many poor men were made poorer by seeking the help they thought the law

ought to give them. His father said nothing of having visited a lawyer

and Master Tyndale on the subject of his marriage, but Miles shrewdly

guessed that he had been somewhere, and that the advice he had received

had not been in accordance with his wishes; and the Lady Audrey was not

mentioned during their last interview.

Sir Thomas had succeeded in getting some abatement in his taxes, but

the old man would rather the business had failed and the marriage

proposals prospered, for now he would most certainly have to hand over

the dowry of the Lady Audrey, and this would compel him to sell a good

many sheep, for it was to stock the farms that had been turned into

pasture that the lady's money had been expended, and he had not been

able to save more than half of it by the sale of the wool the sheep had

produced. And it was for the sake of this money he was so anxious Miles

should marry the young widow.

At the "Sign of the Golden Fleece" · 第 12 / 28 章