ly denied that he ever was there,
or anywhere near Enfield Chase "since Bartholomewtide." He was not in
London or the suburbs in November. The Attorney-General was very kind
to the prisoner, and promised "to make the best construction that he
could" of his answers to the King; but Sir William Wade was not the man
to accept the word of a Jesuit, unless it should be the word "Guilty."
He accused Garnet of wholesale violation of the Decalogue in the
plainest English, and coolly told him that he could not believe him on
his oath, since the Pope could absolve him for any extent of lying or
equivocation. It was plainly no easy matter to beguile Sir William
Wade.

The next day, February 14th, Garnet and Hall were removed to the Tower
of London, where the former found himself, to his satisfaction, lodged
in "a very fine chamber," next to that of his brother priest. Here, as
he records in a letter to his friends, he received the best treatment,
being "allowed every meal a good draught of excellent claret wine," as
well as permitted to send for additional sack out of his own purse for
himself and the keeper: and he was suffered to vegetate as he thought
proper, with only one sorrow to vex his soul--Sir William Wade.

Sir William Wade, the Lieutenant of the Tower, constituted himself the
torment of poor Garnet's life. He was perpetually passing through his
room, or at the furthest, loitering in the gallery beyond. Sometimes he
treated the prisoner as beneath contempt, and would not utter a word to
him; at other times he sat down and regaled him with conversation of a
free and easy character. The scornful silence was bad enough, but the
conversation was considerably worse. Whatever else Garnet was, he was
an English gentleman, as his letters testify; and Sir William Wade was
not. He was, on the contrary, one of those distressing people who pride
themselves on being outspoken, and calling a spade a spade, which they
do in the most vulgar and disagreeable manner. He favoured the prisoner
with his unvarnished opinion of the Society to which he belonged, and
with unsavoury anecdotes of its members, mingled with the bitterest
abuse: and the worthy knight was not the man to spare his adjectives
when a sufficient seasoning of them would add zest to a dish of nouns.
At other times Sir William dipped his tongue in honey, and used the
sweetest language imaginable. It is manifest from the manner in which
Garnet mentions him, that