When Ralph had taken the chair again that he had just left, Cromwell
took up a pen, and began to play with it delicately as he talked.

"You will have noticed," he began, "how hot the feeling runs in the
country, and I am sure you will also have understood why it is so. It
is not so much what has happened,--I mean in the matter of the marriage
and of the friars,--but what folk fear is going to happen. It seems to
the people that security is disappearing; they do not understand that
their best security lies in obedience. And, above all, they think that
matters are dangerous with regard to the Church. They know now that the
Pope has spoken, and that the King pays no heed, but, on the other hand,
waxes more bold. And that because his conscience bids him. Remember
that, sir, when you have to do with his Highness."

He glanced at Ralph again, but there was no mockery in his solemn eyes.
Then he went on.

"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," went on Cromwell, after a moment's
silence. "The King of England has always been supreme, though I will
acknowledge that this has become obscured of late. But it is time that
it be re-affirmed. The Popes have waxed presumptuous, and have laid