“Bide here, your Grace,” answered Thomas promptly. “‘Twixt Wash and Humber is a wild land in winter and arrows fly about there like ducks at night, none knowing whence they come. Also your Grace is over-heavy for a horse on forest roads and moorland, and if aught should chance, why, they’d laugh in Spain and Rome, or nearer, and who would rule England with a girl child on its throne?” and he stared hard at Cromwell’s back. “Truth at last, and out of the lips of a red-haired bumpkin,” muttered the King, also staring at the unconscious Cromwell, who was engaged on his writing and either feigned deafness or did not hear. “Thomas Bolle, I said that you were no fool, although some may have thought you so, is there aught you would have in payment for your counsel--save money, for that we have none?” “Aye, Sire, freedom from my oath as a lay-brother of the Abbey of Blossholme, and leave to marry.” “To marry whom?” “Her, Sire,” and he pointed to Emlyn. “What! The other handsome witch? See you not that she has a temper? Nay, woman, be silent, it is written in your face. Well, take your freedom and her with it, but, Thomas Bolle, why did you not ask otherwise when the chance came your way? I thought better of you. Like the rest of us, you are but a fool after all. Farewell to you, Fool Thomas, and to you also, my fair Lady of Blossholme.” CHAPTER XVI THE VOICE IN THE FOREST The four were back safe in their lodging in Cheapside, whither, after the deeds had been sealed, three soldiers escorted them by command. “Have we done well, have we done well?” asked Jacob, rubbing his hands. “It would seem so, Master Smith,” replied Cicely, “thanks to you; that is, if all the King said is really in those writings.” “It is there sure enough,” said Jacob; “for know, that with the aid of a lawyer and three scriveners, I drafted them myself in the Lord Cromwell’s office this morning, and oh, I drew them wide. Hard, hard we worked with no time for dinner, and that was why I was ten minutes late by the clock, for which Emlyn here chided me so sharply. Still, I’ll read them through again, and if aught is left out we will have it righted, though these are the same parchments, for I set a secret mark upon them.” “Nay, nay,” said Cicely, “leave well alone. His Grace’s mood may change, or the Queen--that matter of the pearl.” “Ah, the pearl, it grieved me to part with that beautiful pearl. But there was no way out, it must be sold and the money handed over, our honour is on it. Had I refused, who knows? Yes, we may thank God, for if the most of your jewels are gone, the wide Abbey lands have come and other things. Nothing is forgot. Bolle is unfrocked and may wed; Cousin Stower has got a husband----” Then Emlyn, who until now had been strangely silent, burst out in wrath----