“But two men can hang you tomorrow,” he answered. “One man you know; the other is the Sieur Gardiner. Cromwell hath contrived that you should write a treasonable letter; Gardiner holdeth that letter’s self.”
Katharine braved her own sudden fears with:
“Men are not such villains.”
“They are as occasion makes them,” he answered, with his voice of a philosopher. “What manner of men these times breed you should know if you be not a fool. It is very certain that Gardiner will hang you, with that letter, if you work not into his goodly hands. See how you stand in need of a counsellor. Now you wish you had done otherwise.”
She said hotly:
“Never. So I would act again tomorrow.”
“Oh fool madam,” he answered. “Your cousin’s province was never to come within a score miles of the cardinal. Being a drunkard and a boaster he was sent to Paris to get drunk and to boast.”
The horror of the blackness, the damp, the foul smell, and all this treachery made her voice faint. She stammered:
“Shew me a light, or let the door be opened. I am sick.”
“Neither,” he answered. “I am as much as you in peril. With a light men may see in at the casement; with an open door they may come eavesdropping. When you have been in this world as long as I you will love black night as well.”
Her brain swam for a moment.
“My cousin was never in this plot against me,” she uttered faintly.
He answered lightly:
“You may keep your faith in that toppet. Where you are a fool is to have believed that Privy Seal, who is a wise man, or Viridus, who is a philosopher after my heart, would have sent such a sot and babbler on such a tickle errand.”
“He was sent!” protested Katharine.
“Aye, he was sent to blab about it in every tavern in Paris town. He was sent to frighten the Red Cap out of Paris town. He was suffered to blab to you that you might set your neck in a noose and be driven to be a spy.”
His soft chuckle came through the darkness like an obscene applause of a successful villainy; it was as if he were gloating over her folly and the rectitude of her mind.
“Red Cap was working mischief in Paris—but Red Cap is timorous. He will go post haste back to Rome, either because of your letter or because of your cousin’s boasting. But there are real and secret murderers waiting for him in every town in Italy on the road to Rome. Some are at Brescia, some at Rimini: at Padua there is a man with his neck, like yours, in a noose. It is a goodly contrivance.”
“You are a vile pack,” Katharine said, and once more the smooth and unctuous sound came from his invisible throat.
“How shall you decide what is vileness, or where will you find a virtuous man?” he asked. “Maybe you will find some among the bones of your old Romans. Yet your Seneca, in his day, did play the villain. Or maybe some at the Court of Mahound. I know not, for I was never there. But here is a goodly world, with prizes for them that can take them. Yet virtue may still flourish, for I have done middling well by serving my country. Now I am minded to retire into my lands, to cultivate good letters and to pursue virtue. For here about the Courts there are many distractions. The times are evil times. Yet will I do one good stroke more before I go.”
Katharine said hotly:
“If you go down into Lincolnshire, I will call upon every man there to fall upon you and hang you.”
“Why,” he said, “that is why I did come to you, since you are from where my lands are. If I serve you, I would have you to smooth my path there. I ask no more, for now I crave rest and a private life. It is very assured that I should never find that here or in few parts of the land—so well I have served my King. Therefore, if I serve you, you and yours shall cast above my retired farms and my honourable leisure the shadow of your protection. I ask no more.” He chuckled almost inaudibly. “I am set to watch you,” he said. “Viridus will go to Paris to catch another traitor called Brancetor, for the world is full of traitors. Therefore, in a way, it rests with me to hang you.”
He seemed to be seated upon a cask, for there was a creaking of old wood, and he spoke very leisurely.
Katharine said, “Good night, and God send you better thoughts.”
“Why, stay, and I will be brief,” he pleaded. “I dally because it is sweet talking to a fair woman in a black place.”
“You are easily content, for all the sweet words you get from me,” she scorned him.
“See you,” he said earnestly. “It is true that I am set to watch you. I love you because you are fair; I might bend you, since I hold you in the hollow of my hand. But I am a continent man, and there is here a greater stake to be had than any amorous satisfaction. I would save my country from a man who has been a friend, but is grown a villain. Listen.”
He appeared to pause to collect his words together.
“Baumbach, the Saxish ambassador, is here seeking to tack us to the Schmalkaldner heresies. Yesterday he was with Privy Seal, who loveth the Lutheran alliance. So Privy Seal takes him to his house, and shows him his marvellous armoury, which is such that no prince nor emperor hath elsewhere. So says Privy Seal to Baumbach: ‘I love your alliance; but his Highness will naught of it.’ And he fetched a heavy sigh.”
Katharine said:
“What is this hearsay to me?”
“He fetched a heavy sigh,” Throckmorton continued. “And your uncle or Gardiner knew how heavy a sigh it was their hearts would be
