"It is Lord Neville, sir. Nothing has been heard of him, and I wish to tell you what Sir Thomas Jevery said." She did so, and Cromwell listened with a smile of incredulity. "We know Neville better than that," he answered. "It would be a great wonder if he should think of America, Jane. Would a man in his senses leave you, and his estate, and his good friends and good prospects to go into the wilderness? Truly he would not. His home and land in Fife are worth more than Jevery’s gold and jewels, and I do think my favour may count for something. And more than these things there is your love. You do love him, Jane?" "Better than my life, your Highness." "And he loves you?" "Indeed, I am most certain of it." "When did you hear last from him?" Jane had expected this question and she offered Cromwell Cluny’s last letter, and asked him to read it. He read it aloud, letting his voice become sweet and tender as he did so. "My dearest and most honoured mistress, I am just on the moment of leaving Paris; my horse is at the door; but by a messenger that will come more directly than myself, I send you a last word from this place. My thoughts outreach all written words. I am with you, my own dear one, in all my best moments, and my unchangeable love salutes you. Graciously remember me in your love and prayers. "CLUNY NEVILLE." "A good letter, Jane. I do think the man that wrote it is beyond guile, beyond dishonour of any kind. I will not hear a doubt of him. I will not——" With these words he rose, and taking Jane’s hand in his, he began to walk with her, up and down the room. His clasp was so hot and tight she could have cried out, but glancing into his face she saw it was only the physical expression of thoughts he did not care to give words to. In a few minutes he touched a bell, and when it was answered said, "Mr. Tasburg to my presence—without delay." Mr. Tasburg came without delay, and Cromwell turned to him in some passion. "Mark Tasburg," he said scornfully, "I know not whether you have been alive or dead. I have not once heard from you in the matter of Lord Neville’s delay; I have not, and that you know. The commission for your search is more than a month old; it is, sir; and I like not such delays. I will not have them." "My Lord Protector, I reported to Mr. Thurloe and Mr. Milton that my search had been of no avail." "Who gave you the order to make this search?" "Your Highness." "Did I give you an order to report to Mr. Thurloe or Mr. Milton? Did I?" "No, your Highness." "See, then, what you have taken upon yourself. Be not so forward again, or you may go back to St. Ives and make clay pipes. What date does Lord Neville’s last letter bear?" "It was written at Paris on the eleventh day of November." "The same date as your last letter, Mistress Swaffham. Four months ago. This is serious." Then turning to Tasburg he said, "Find Colonel Ayrton and send him here, to me, without delay."