The first news which reached the Lamb in 1554, was the startling information--if any information can be called startling in that age of sudden and shocking events--that the night before, Mr Ive had been hastily apprehended and committed to the Marshalsea. He was soon released, unhurt; but this occurrence quickened Mr Underhill's tardy movements. He had already made up his mind to remove from the Limehurst, where his abode was too well-known to the enemy; the arrest of his friend and neighbour determined him to go at once. He took "a little house in a secret corner at the nether end of Wood Street," Cheapside. About Epiphany was born Susan Bertie, the only daughter of the Duchess of Suffolk. Shortly before this the Emperor's Ambassadors came over to treat concerning the Queen's marriage, and were pelted with snowballs by children in the streets of the City. The vacant sees were filled up by Popish divines; Cardinal Pole was invited to return to England (from which he had been so many years exiled), in the capacity of Legate; the Queen dissolved the Court of First Fruits, and commanded that the title of "Head of the Church in earth" should be omitted from the enumeration of her titles in all future documents. Permission granted to Lady Jane to walk in the Queen's garden and on Tower Hill revived for a moment the hopes of the Protestants so far as concerned her. No harm would come to her, they sanguinely repeated, if the Queen were left to herself. Possibly they were fight. But what likelihood was there that Gardiner would so leave her? and--a question yet more ominous--what might Philip of Spain require in this matter? Men not yet sixty years of age could remember the time when, previous to the marriage of Katherine of Aragon, the Earl of Warwick, last surviving male of the House of York, had been beheaded on Tower Hill. Once before, the royal blood of England had been shed at the demand of Spain: might the precedent not be repeated now? The only difference being, that the victim then was a tercel gentle, and now it would be a white dove. In the middle of January, before his removal from the Limehurst, and when he was sufficiently recovered to "walk to London an easy pace," Mr Underhill made his appearance one afternoon in the Minories. He came with the evident intention of telling his own story. "And would you," said he, "hear the tale of my examination and imprisonment?" "That would we, and with a right good will," answered Dr Thorpe, speaking for all. "We do know even what Mr Ive could tell us, but nothing further."