He was welcomed into the hall, accoutred according to the times, in immense riding boots, long spurs, and stout leathern jerkin. The stranger bowed respectfully to the party, and looked up, as if he thought they would have recognised his features and guessed his communication; for he was, in the fashion of that day, dressed with a mourning scarf; and if these did not speak for him, the sober, grave, and mournful manner of his speech awoke in Ellen the first suspicion of his message, and then a recognition of his face, for she exclaimed-- 'Thou art the bearer of ill-tidings of thy master.' 'Alas, lady! I am, indeed--my master is no more.' 'Is Wolsey dead, good Master Cavendish? 'He is dead, good Lord De Freston, and he often said to me, that I should find in thee a good man and true; a friend with whom I might awhile assuage that grief which now afflicts me.' 'And so thou shall; but take thy jerkin off. Good Latimer, attend for me on Master Cavendish, and bring him presently unto us again.' Cavendish and Latimer retired, and when Lord De Freston looked at Ellen, she was weeping. The old man was touched, and spake most gently of him. 'We must not weep, my daughter, for the dead. Let us rather rejoice that all the agonies of his life are over.' 'In that I may, perhaps I do, rejoice, but we must heal more of his latter days to make me feel as hopeful for his future happiness as I could wish. He was a youth of promise, father; a wise, a discerning youth. I cannot forget the early devotion of his life to our society, when he appeared to possess a freedom which was then bidding fair to be untrammelled by superstition. I think of him then, dear father, and I wonder if this spirit of his youth revived in him during his last days.' 'We shall hear more of this anon. I loved his youth; I loved his learning too, my child. I admire many of his arts; but I fear he was unmerciful towards those who differed with him. But let us hear what Master Cavendish says. We must all depart. You must lose your father, too.' This changed the current of Ellen's thoughts, and she wept no more, but spoke cheerfully to her parent--making a generous effort to divert any gloominess from his mind. CHAPTER XLV. THE COURTIER. 'But here comes the faithful Cavendish; he will tell us more of the real state of our dear friend's mind, and how he took the king's displeasure.' That faithful servant, who admired and loved his master and attended him diligently, and did his business as his secretary so faithfully that Wolsey would gladly have preferred him before a better master, entered the hall with Latimer. He had changed his riding costume for one adapted to the age when the luxurious warmth of sofas, cushions, and couches was unknown, and, in general, a high-backed, elaborately-carved chair, with good, firm, oaken seat, was the ornamental place of the guest before the cheerful blaze of the English fire.