He fell back in the chair, and the sudden quaver of his face, the deep
breath that he drew, showed his immense joy.
'God of my heart! Both women!' he said again.
The rain hurled itself with a great rustling against the casement.
Though it was so early, it was already nearly dark. Cromwell sat up
suddenly and pointed at the boy.
'Take that rat away!' he said. 'Set him in irons, and come back here.'
Throckmorton caught the quivering boy by the ear and led him out at
the door. He took him down a small stair that opened behind a curtain.
At the stair-foot he pulled open a small, heavy door. He still held
his dagger, and he cut the ropes that tied Poins' elbows. With a
sudden alacrity and a grin of malice he kicked him violently.
'Get you gone to your mistress,' he said.
Poins stood for a moment, wavering on his feet. He slipped miserably
in the mud of the park, and suddenly he ran. His grey, straining form
disappeared round the end of the dark buildings, and then Throckmorton
waved a hand at the grey sky and laughed noiselessly. Thomas Cromwell
was making notes in his tablets when his spy re-entered the room, with
the rain-drops glistening in his beard.
'Here are some notes for you,' Cromwell said. He rose to his feet with
a swift and intense energy. 'I have given you five farms. Now I go to
the King.'
Throckmorton spoke gently.
'You are over-eager,' he said. 'It is early to go to the King's
Highness. We may find much more yet.'
'It is already late,' Cromwell said.
'Sir,' Throckmorton urged, 'consider that the King is much affected to
this lady. Consider that this letter contains nothing that is
treasonable; rather it urges peace upon the King's enemies.'
'Aye,' said Cromwell; 'but it is written covertly to the King's
enemies.'
'That, it is true, is a treason,' Throckmorton said; 'but it is very
certain that the Lady Mary hath written letters very much more
hateful. By questioning this boy that we have in gaol, by gaoling this
Lady Katharine--why, we shall put her to the thumbscrews!--by gaol and
by thumbscrew, we shall gar her to set her hand to another make of
confession. Then you may go to the King's Highness.'
'Nick Throckmorton,' Cromwell said, 'Winchester hath to-night the
King's ear....'
'Sir,' Throckmorton answered, and a tremble in his calm voice showed
his eagerness, 'I beseech you to give my words your thoughts.
Winchester hath the King's ear for the moment; but I will get you
letters wherein these ladies shall reveal Winchester for the traitor
that we know him to be. Listen to me....' He paused and let his crafty
eyes run over his master's face. 'Let this matter be for an hour. See
you, you shall make a warrant to take this Lady Katharine.'
He paused and appeared to reflect.
'In an hour she shall be here. Give me leave to use my
thumbscrews....'
'Aye, but Winchester,' Cromwell said.
'Why,' Throckmorton answered confidently, 'in an hour, too, Winchester
shall be with the King in the King's Privy Chapel. There will be a
make of prayers; ten minutes to that. There shall be Gardiner talking
to the King against your lordship; ten minutes to that. And,
Winchester being craven, it shall cost him twice ten minutes to come
to begging your lordship's head of the King, if ever he dare to beg
it. But he never shall.'