previous protests had lacked.

And behind it all was the King's conscience! This was a new thought to
Ralph, but the more he considered it the more it convinced him. It was a
curious conscience, but a mighty one, and it was backed by an
indomitable will. For the first time there opened out to Ralph's mind a
glimpse of the possibility that he had scarcely dreamed of hitherto--of
a Nationalism in Church affairs that was a reality rather than a
theory--in which the Bishop of Rome while yet the foremost bishop of
Christendom and endowed with special prerogatives, yet should have no
finger in national affairs, which should be settled by the home
authorities without reference to him. No doubt, he told himself, a
readjustment was needed--visions and fancies had encrusted themselves so
quickly round the religion credible by a practical man that a scouring
was called for. How if this should be the method by which not only such
accretions should be done away, but yet more practical matters should be
arranged, and steps taken to amend the unwarranted interferences and
pecuniary demands of this foreign bishop?

He had had more than one interview with Sir Thomas More in the Tower,
and once was able to take him news of his own household at Chelsea. For
a month none of his own people, except his servant, was allowed to visit
him, and Ralph, calling on him about three weeks after the beginning of
his imprisonment, found him eager for news.

He was in a sufficiently pleasant cell in the Beauchamp Tower, furnished
with straw mats underfoot, and straw hangings in place of a wainscot;
his bed stood in one corner, with his crucifix and beads on a little
table beside it, and his narrow window looked out through eleven feet of
wall towards the Court and the White Tower. His books, too, which his