'There we have forty minutes,' Throckmorton said. He licked his lips and held his long beard in his hand carefully, as if it had been a bird. 'But give me ten minutes to do my will upon this lady's body, and ten to write down what she shall confess. Then, if it take your lordship ten minutes to dress yourself finely, you shall have still ten in which you shall show the King how his Winchester is traitor to him.'
Cromwell considered for a minute; his lips twitched cautiously the one above the other.
'This is a great matter,' he said. He paused again. 'If this lady should not confess! And it is very certain that the King affects her.'
'Give me ten minutes of her company,' the spy answered.
'You are very certain,' he said; and then:
Throckmorton wagged his beard slowly up and down.
'Thy head and beard!' Cromwell repeated. He struck his hands briskly together. 'It is thine own asking. God help thee if thou failest!'
'I will lay nothing to your lordship's door,' Throckmorton said eagerly.
'God knows!' Cromwell said. 'No man that hath served me have I deserted. So it is that no one hath betrayed me. But thou shalt take this lady without warrant from my hand.'
'If thou shalt wring avowal from her thou shalt be the wealthiest commoner of England,' Cromwell said. 'But I will not be here. Nay, thou shalt take her to thine own rooms. I will not be seen in this matter. And if thou fail....'
'Sir, I stand more sure of my succeeding than ever your lordship stood,' Throckmorton answered him.
'It is not I that shall betray thee if thou fail,' Cromwell answered. 'Get thee gone swiftly....' He took the jewelled badge from his cap that lay on the table. 'Thou hast served me well,' he said; 'take this in case I never see thy face again.'
'Oh, you shall see my triumph!' Throckmorton answered.
He bent himself nearly double as he passed through the door.
Cromwell sat down in his great chair, and his eyes gazed at nothing through the tapestry of his room.
In Katharine Howard's room they had the form of the boy, wet, grey, and mud-draggled, lying on the ground between them. Cicely Elliott rose in her chair: it was not any part of her nature to succour fainting knaves, and she let him stay where he was. Old Rochford raised his hands, and cried out to Katharine: