Warwick was now put out of the way, in obedience to the King of Spain. But remorse gnawed the tyrant's heart. His father confessor, though doubtless an astute courtier, failed to soothe his conscience. He sought the help of wizards and quacks. But his superstitions gave him little consolation. The Spanish Ambassador noticed the change that had taken place in Henry's appearance since the murder of young Warwick. Don Pedro de Ayala had been in Scotland during the interval. The King had come to look many years older in a single month. Dark thoughts were haunting his mind. His eldest son died, and an anonymous writer has recorded that he showed some feeling, and exchanged words of consolation with his wife.[46] This is quite in keeping with one side of his character. The other side is shown in his harsh treatment of Catharine of Aragon, in his monstrous proposal to marry her when his wife died, in his disgusting inquiries respecting the young Queen of Naples, and in his revolting offer for the hand of Juana (_la loca_). But the necessities of his position gave him little time for the indulgence either of such grief as he was capable of feeling or of the other less creditable sentiments that are revealed in his correspondence. His son's death must have seemed to him the Nemesis of his crimes. Yet within a month he was beheading {277} Tyrrel, and fabricating a story to account for the disappearance of his wife's brothers. We can never know how much that wife suffered. No doubt she was kept in ignorance of the fate of her brothers. But she knew they were not killed by her uncle. She saw her mother immured in a nunnery for life. She saw her brother, the Marquis of Dorset, committed to the Tower. She saw the sister, nearest to her in age, hurriedly married to old Lord Welles. She must have suspected much, even if she knew nothing. She could not have been kept in ignorance of the cruel imprisonment of her young cousin Warwick. She must have shuddered at his murder. She would have been less than human if she did not loathe the perpetrator of these deeds, even though he was the father of her children. The unhappy wife was released from companionship with the murderer of her relations on February 11, 1503. [Sidenote: Death of the Earl of Suffolk] Another crime was contemplated by the miserable usurper, to make his position safe. But he could not get the Earl of Suffolk into his clutches without giving a solemn promise to spare his life. He evaded the promise by advising his son to commit the crime after his death.[47] Murderous designs thus occupied his mind, even on his death-bed. Yet one of Henry's last acts was an act of restitution. He restored in blood, and to all his estates, the son of his accomplice, Sir James Tyrrel, on April 6, 1507, feeling no doubt that the greater criminal of the two remained unpunished, except by his own remorseful conscience. {278}