Henry suddenly waved both hands at the sky. 'Take you good order,' he said heavily into the lean and yellow face of the Duke. 'Marshal these ceremonies fitly from henceforth. Let nothing lack. Get you gone.' An end must be made of talk and gossip. The rumour of last night's Council must appear an idle tale, a falsehood of despairing Papists. 'The Queen cometh,' he said. With the droop of the Duke's long arms his hat seemed to brush the stones, his head fell on his chest. It was finished. He had seen so many things go that he loved. And now this old woman with her Germans, her heresies--her children doubtless--meant the final downfall of the Old Order in his day. It would return, but he would never see it. And under Cromwell's sardonic gaze his head hung limply, and his eyes filled with hot and blinding drops. His face trembled like that of a very old man. The King had thrust his hand through Cromwell's arm, and, with a heavy familiarity as if he would make him forget the Council of last night, he was drawing him away towards the water-gate. He turned his head over his shoulder and repeated balefully: 'The Queen cometh.' As he did so his eye fell upon a man tugging at the bridle of a mule that had a woman on its back. He passed on with his minister. V In turning, Norfolk came against them at the very end of the path. The man's green coat was spotted with filth, one of his sleeves was torn off and dangled about his heel. The mule's knees were cut, and the woman trembled with her hidden face and shrinking figure. They made him choke with rage and fear. Some other procession might have come against these vagabonds, and the blame would have been his. It disgusted him that they were within a yard of himself. 'Are there no side paths?' he asked harshly. Culpepper blazed round upon him: 'How might I know? Why sent you no guide?' His vivid red beard was matted into tails, his face pallid and as if blazing with rage. The porter had turned them loose into the empty garden. 'Kat is sore hurt,' he mumbled, half in tears. 'Her arm is welly broken.' He glared at the Duke. 'Care you no more for your own blood and kin?' Norfolk asked: 'Who is your Kat? Can I know all the Howards?' Culpepper snarled: 'Aye, we may trust you not to succour your brother's children.' The Duke said: 'Why, she shall back to the palace. They shall comfort her.' 'That shall she not,' Culpepper flustered. 'Sh'ath her father's commands to hasten to Dover.' The Duke caught her eyes in the fur hood that hid her face like a Moorish woman's veil. They were large, grey and arresting beneath the pallor of her forehead. They looked at him, questioning and judging. 'Wilt not come to my lodging?' he asked. 'Aye, will I,' came a little muffled by the fur. 'That shall she not,' Culpepper repeated. The Duke looked at him with gloomy and inquisitive surprise.