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Updated: June 8, 2025
No less than rank treason, Mr. Torridon." A monk was standing before the table, who turned nervously as Ralph came in; he was a middle-aged man, grey-haired and brown-faced like a foreigner, but his eyes were full of terror now, and his lips trembling piteously. Ralph greeted Dr. Layton shortly, and sat down beside him.
"I am going to tell you, Mr. Torridon, that these folks are partly right, and that his Grace has not yet done all that he intends. There is yet one more step to take and that is to declare the King supreme over the Church of England." Ralph felt those strong eyes bent upon him, and he nodded, making no sign of approval or otherwise. "This is no new thing, Mr.
Torridon," she said, "it is a little late now. I have sent the boy up to the village for your servant; he can sleep in this room if you wish. I fear we have no room for more." Ralph watched her as she talked. She was very old, with hanging cheeks, and solemn little short-sighted eyes, for she peered at him now and again across the candles.
Lady Torridon indeed took no steps at all when she heard that Chris was coming, beyond expressing a desire that she might not be called upon to discuss the ecclesiastical situation at every meal; and when Chris finally arrived a week after Bishop Fisher's execution, having parted with the Prior at Cuckfield, she was walking in her private garden beyond the moat.
"He was saying as much to me the other day," went on Ralph, excited by his success. "He told me you knew Horace too well." "And that my morals were corrupted by him," went on More. "I know he thinks that, but I had the honour of confuting him the other day with regard to the flagon and gloves. Now, there is a subject for Martial, Mr. Torridon.
He walked down with Ralph to the garden steps, and stood by him talking, while the wherry that had been hailed from the other side made its way across. "Beatrice is like one of my own daughters," he said, "and I cannot give her better praise than that. She is always here, and always as you saw her today. I think she is one of the strongest spirits I know. What did you think of her, Mr. Torridon?"
Beatrice stood perfectly still. She could see Ralph at an angle looking at her imploringly. "You know my Lord of Canterbury," said Cromwell, in an explanatory voice. "I know my Lord of Canterbury," said Beatrice. There was a dead silence for a moment, and then a faint whimper from the maid. Cranmer dropped his hand, but still smiled, turning to Ralph. "We must be gone, Mr. Torridon.
More," said his wife with dignity, as she took Ralph's hand and said a word about the weather. "Then I will confess," said Sir Thomas, smiling genially round, "I welcomed Mr. Torridon with the back of my head, and with Anubis biting my ears." Ralph felt strangely drawn to this schoolboy kind of man, who romped with dogs and lay on his stomach, and was so charmingly afraid of his wife.
"I do not understand," said the girl, "your brother " "Yes, I am his brother, God help me," snarled Chris. Beatrice's lips closed again, and a look of contempt came into her face. "I have heard enough, Mr. Torridon. Will you come with me?" Chris moved forward a step. "I do not know who you are, madam," he said, "but do you understand what this gentleman is?
Beatrice took her in her arms. "My dear," she said, "indeed you must leave all that now. Come and see her; she is at peace, and you must be." The bedroom where Lady Torridon had died was arranged as a chapelle ardente; the great bed had been moved out into the centre of the room.
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