“It is, my liege,” replied the other. “His Eminence is unwilling to give up the maiden, and desires to ascertain the Queen’s pleasure on the subject. As I have already told your Majesty, the Cardinal was much troubled on learning from Mistress Constance what had befallen her, and he declared that unless he had the Queen’s positive commands to that effect he would not surrender her to the ecclesiastical commissioners. I do not think I ever saw him more moved.” “I make no doubt that his Eminence blamed me, Sir,” remarked Bonner. “To speak truth, my lord, he did,” replied Rodomont; “and he said plainly to Lord Priuli that you should not have the damsel.” “Your Majesty hears that?” cried Bonner. “This proud Cardinal defies your authority.” “Nay, there was no defiance on his Eminence’s part of the King’s Highness,” observed Rodomont, “but only of your lordship. The representative of his Holiness, he said, should not be insulted with impunity, and he added some words which I care not to repeat, but they spoke of reprimands, censures, and possible privation of dignity.” “His Eminence takes up the matter with great warmth,” observed Bonner, uneasily. “I have never known him so put out before,” said Rodomont. “He paced to and fro within his chamber for an hour, and the Lord Priuli could scarce pacify him. This morning, after an interview with Mistress Constance, his anger broke out afresh, and he dispatched me with a letter to her Majesty, craving an audience at noon. This is all I have to state. I have thought it right to warn your lordship that if you think fit to persist in the matter, you may know what to expect.” “Enough, Sir,” observed the King. “You may withdraw.” Rodomont bowed and retired, laughing in his sleeve at the fright he had given Bonner. “Heaven forgive me for making a bugbear of the good Cardinal,” he muttered; “but the trick seems to have succeeded.” “So, the Cardinal is determined to try his strength with us,” observed Philip, as soon as he and Bonner were left alone. “I must beg to retire from the contest, Sire,” replied the bishop. “Whoever wins, I am sure to lose by it.” “Tut! I will bear you harmless,” rejoined the King. “But the Cardinal will be here anon. I must prepare the Queen for his arrival.” “I would your Majesty could be prevailed upon to abandon this design,” observed Bonner. “It will lead to nothing save trouble and confusion. Ever after I shall have the Cardinal for an enemy.” “You alarm yourself needlessly,” rejoined Philip. “That knave purposely exaggerated his master’s anger. The Cardinal knows full well that the act is mine, and not your lordship’s.”