e was offered his choice among several other great houses. For the
present he hesitated to choose; uncertain of his future. If his father
died there would be Overfield waiting for him, so he did not wish to tie
himself to one of the far-away Yorkshire houses; if his father lived, he
did not wish to be too near him. There was no hurry, said Cromwell;
there would be houses and to spare for the King's faithful servants; and
meantime it would be better for Mr. Torridon to remain in Westminster,
and lay his foundations of prosperity deeper and wider yet before
building. The title too that Cromwell dangled before him sometimes--that
too could wait until he had chosen his place of abode.

Ralph felt that he was being magnificently treated by his master; and
his gratitude and admiration grew side by side with his rising fortune.
There was no niggardliness, now that Cromwell had learnt to trust in
him; he could draw as much money as he wished for the payment of his
under-agents, or for any other purpose; and no questions were asked.

The little house at Westminster grew rich in treasures; his bed-coverlet
was the very cope he had taken from Rusper; his table was heavy with
chalices beaten into secular shape; his fire-screen was a Spanish
chasuble taken in the North. His servants were no longer three or four
sleeping in the house; there was a brigade of them, some that attended
for orders morning by morning, some that skirmished for him in the
country and returned rich in documents and hearsay; and a dozen waited
on his personal wants.

He dealt too with great folks. Half a dozen abbots had been to see him
in the last year or two, stately prelates that treated him as an equal
and pleaded for his intercession; the great nobles, enemies of his
master and himself, eyed him with respectful suspicion as he walked with
Cromwell in Westminster Hall. The King had pulled his ears and praised
him; Ralph had stayed at Greenwich a week at a time when the execution
of the Benedictine abbots was under discussion; he had ridden down
Cheapside with Henry on his right and Cromwell beyond, between the
shouting crowds and beneath the wild tossing of gold-cloth and tapestry
and the windy pealing of a hundred brazen bells. He had gone up with
Norfolk to Doncaster, a mouth through which the King might promise and
threaten, and had strode up the steps beside the Duke to make an end of
the insurgent-leaders of the northern rebellion.

He did not lack