ue and lay now in
gaol.

So she spoke to her two chief friends, her that had been Cicely
Elliott and her old husband Rochford, the knight of Bosworth Hedge.
They happened in upon her just after she was attired and had sent her
maid to fetch her dinner from the buttery.

'Three months agone,' she said, 'the King's Highness did bid me cease
from crying out upon Privy Seal; and not the King's Highness' self can
say that in that time I have spoken word against the Lord Cromwell.'

Cicely Elliott, who dressed, in spite of her new wedding, all in black
for the sake of some dead men, laughed round at her from her little
stool by the fire.

'God help you! that must have been hard, to keep thy tongue from the
flail of all Papists.'

The old knight, who was habited like Katharine, all in red, because at
that season the King favoured that colour, pulled nervously at his
little goat's beard, for all conversations that savoured of politics
and religion were to him very fearful. He stood back against the green
hangings and fidgeted with his feet.

But Katharine, who for the love of the King had been silent, was now
set to speak her mind.

'It is Seneca,' she said, 'who tells us to have a check upon our
tongues, but only till the moment approaches to speak.'

'Aye, goodman Seneca!' Cicely laughed round at her. Katharine smoothed
her hair, but her eyes gleamed deeply.

'The moment approaches,' she said; 'I do like my King, but better I
like my Church.' She swallowed in her throat. 'I had thought,' she
said, 'that Privy Seal would stay his harryings of the goodly nuns in
this land.' But now she had a petition, come that day from Lincoln
gaol. Cromwell's servants were more bitter still than ever against the
religious. Here was a false accusation of treason against her
foster-mother's self. 'I will soon end it or mend it, or lose mine own
head,' Katharine ended.

'Aye, pull down Cur Crummock,' Cicely said. 'I think the King shall
not long stay away from thy desires.'

The old knight burst in:

'I take it ill that ye speak of these things. I take it ill. I will
not have 'ee lose thy head in these quarrels.'

'Husband,' Cicely laughed round at him, 'three years ago Cur Crummock
had the heads of all my menfolk, having sworn they were traitors.'

'The more reason that he have not mine and thine now,' the old knight
answered grimly. 'I am not for these meddlings in things that concern
neither me nor thee.'

Cicely Elliott