“This is no new thing, Mr. Torridon,” went on Cromwell, after a moment’s silence. “The King of England has always been supreme, though I will acknowledge that this has become obscured of late. But it is time that it be re-affirmed. The Popes have waxed presumptuous, and have laid claim to titles that Christ never gave them, and it is time that they be reminded that England is free, and will not suffer their domination. As for the unity of the Catholic Church, that can be attended to later on, and on firmer ground; when the Pope has been taught not to wax so proud. There will be an Act passed by Parliament presently, perhaps next year, to do this business, and then we shall know better what to do. Until that, it is very necessary, as you have already seen, to keep the folks quiet, and not to suffer any contradiction of his Grace’s rights. Do you understand me, Mr. Torridon?” Cromwell laid the pen clown and leaned back in his chair, with his fingers together. “I understand, sir,” said Ralph, in a perfectly even tone. “Well, that is all that I have to say,” ended his master, still watching him. “I need not tell you how necessary secrecy is in the matter.” Ralph was considerably startled as he went home, and realized better what it was that he had heard. While prudent persons were already trembling at the King’s effrontery and daring in the past, Henry was meditating a yet further step. He began to see now that the instinct of the country was, as always, sharper than that of the individual, and that these uneasy strivings everywhere rose from a very definite perception of danger. The idea of the King’s supremacy, as represented by Cromwell, would not seem to be a very startling departure; similar protests of freedom had been made in previous reigns, but now, following as it did upon overt acts of disobedience to the Sovereign Pontiff, and of disregard of his authority in matters of church-law and even of the status of Religious houses, it seemed to have a significance that previous protests had lacked.