The gleam of favour from the king was destined to be transitory. He felt difficulty in separating himself completely from a friend of twenty years' standing, who had flattered, amused, served, and governed him for such a long time past; but the cabal was more powerful than past services, and Wolsey, lonely and cast down, soon fell ill. "Nothing that he had told me excited so much compassion in me as his appearance," wrote the French ambassador, who had been to see him; "his countenance has fallen away by one half. He is ready to give everything, even to the gown which he wears, provided the displeasure of the king be withdrawn from him." The fallen minister in vain besieged the monarch with the most humble epistles. No token of the royal favour came back to lighten his darkness until the moment when his life was actually in danger. Henry VIII. then relented; he sent his physician to the sick prelate, saying that he would not lose him for twenty thousand pounds, and this mark of remembrance did more than all the remedies for the cure of the cardinal. He had been condemned in the Court of King's Bench, and an indictment had been presented to the Parliament which Henry VIII. had recently convoked; but the indictment was rejected, and the king extended his protection to his old servant. { 207} At the same time, he took possession of all his ecclesiastical benefices, so that Wolsey found himself deprived of everything, and in want of the necessaries of life. Henry VIII. granted his pardon, and caused some articles of furniture and a little money to be remitted to him; but orders were given to him to reside henceforth in his diocese. Slowly and regretfully, Wolsey set out for York, forsaking that court where he had passed his life, and where his heart still lingered. Having arrived at the seat of the duties which yet remained to him, he embraced them with unexpected ardour. The fallen minister appeared to comprehend the importance of his episcopal office, and to seek from God the consolations which men refused him. His clergy, delighted, became more and more attached to him, and wished to formally celebrate his enthronization. Wolsey consented, on condition that no great display should be made; but on the day fixed for the ceremony, as the cardinal was at table, it was announced that the Earl of Northumberland was coming. Wolsey rose to receive him; the earl had been brought up in the cardinal's house, and no doubt he brought good tidings from the king. Northumberland appeared agitated; he hesitated; at length, placing his hand upon the shoulder of the old man, "My lord cardinal," he said, "I arrest you on a charge of high treason." Wolsey remained dumb and motionless; when he recovered his speech it was to burst into sobs and lamentations. His enemies had discovered a correspondence which he still carried on with the Pope and the King of France; they had persuaded Henry that it tended to prevent his marriage with Anne Boleyn. The prelate was doomed this time to be lodged in the Tower.