Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1901-09-25
CHAPTER III.

could never again take pleasure in one
or the other was the son of man
branded as turncont and an informer, of
one who was the worst Of traitors! l sank
down on the settle behind mo and hid my
face. Another might have thought less of
the blow, or, with greater knowledge OF
the world, might have made light Of 1t as
a thing not touching himself. But on
mo, young as I was, and proud, and as yet
tender, and having done nothing myself, 1t
foil with crushing force.
1t was years since had seen my father,
and I could not stand forth Loyalty and
fight his hattie as son his fathers friend
and familiar for years might have fought
1t. On the contrary, there was SO much
which seemed mysterious in my past lie,
SO much that boro out tho chancelior's no.
cusation, that fclt dread of Its truth
even before l had proof. Yet Iwould have
proof. "Show me the letters" said
harshly. "Show me the letters, my lordl"
you know your fathers handwriting"
lido"
I knew 1t, not from any correspondence
my father had held with me, but because
/ had moro than once examined with nat
ural curiosity tho wrappers OF the dis
patches which ut intervals Of many
months, sometimes of year, came from
him to Sir Anthony. had never known
anything Of the contents Of the letters, oil
that fell to my share being certain formal
messages, which Sir Anthony would give
me, generally with q clopded brow and o
testy manner that grow genial again only
with the lapse OF time.
Gardiner handed me the letters, and
took them and read one. One was enough.
That my fatherl Alas, alasi No wonder
that turned my face to the wall. SILVER
ing as with the ague, and that all about
me, except tho red glow of tho fire, which
burned into my brain, seemed darknessl
/ had lost the thing 1fyalued most had
lost at blow everything Of which ] was
proud. The treachery that could flush
that worn face opposite to me, lined as u
was with stntecraft, and betrny the willy
tongue into passion seemed to me, young
and impulsiye, a thing SO vile as to brand
a man s children through generations.
Therefore hid my face In the corner OF
tho settle, while the chancellor gazed ut
me awhile in silence, as one who had
made an experiment might watch the re-
suit.
..You see now, my friend, !" he said at
last, almost gently, THAT you may be base
born in moro ways than one. But BIO OF
good cheer. You are young, and what I
have done sou may do Think of Thomas
Cromwell-his father was naugbt Think
OF the old cardinal my master. Think OF
the Duke Of Suffolk Charles Brandon, I
mean. He was plain gentleman, yet no
married queen. More tho door which
they had to open for themselves I will
open for you--only, when you are inside
play tho man and be faithful.
what would you have me dot" whis-
pered hoarsely.
81 would have you do this, !" he an
swered. There arc great things brew
Ing in tho Netherlands, boy-great
changes, unless I am mistaken. have
need OF an agent there, man, stout,
trusty, and, In particular, unknown, who
will keep me informed Of events. IT you
will be that agent, con procure for you
and not appear In the matter myself-a
most of pay and honor in the regents
guards. What say you to that Master
Cludde9 A few weeks, and you will be
making history, and Cotton End will seem
a mean place to you. Now, what do you
say2"
Twas longing to be away and alone
with my misery, but forced myself to re-
ply patiently.
with your leave I will give you my an
swer tomorrow, my lord, said as stead
lily as could, and rose, still keeping my
face turned from him.
VERY well,p he replied, with apparent
confidence But he watched me keenly,
as fancicd. II know already what your
answer will be. Yet before you 60 I will
give you piece OF advice which In the
now life you begin tonight will avail you
more than silver, more than gold-aye,
more than steel--Master Francis. It is
this: Be prompt to think, be prompt to
strike, be slow to speak, Mark itwelll
II is . simple recipe. yet 1t has made mo
what am and may mako you greater.
Now, gol'
He pointed to the little door opening on
the staircase, and bowed and went out,
closing 1t carefully behind me. On the
stairs, moving blindly in the dark, fell
over some one who lay sleeping there and
who clutched at my leg. shook him OF,
however, with an exclamation Of rage,
and stumbling down the rest Of the steps
gained the open air. Excited and feverish,
/ shrank with aversion from the contine-
mont OF my room, and hurrying over the
drawbridge sought at random the long
terrace by the fish pools, on which the
moonlight fell, a sheet of silver, broken
only by tho sundial and the shadowso of the
rosebushes The night air, weeping chill
from the forest. famed my checks as l
paced up and down. One way had be-
foro mo the manor house-the steep gable
ends, the gateway tower, the low outbuild
ings and corn stacks and stables-and
thanking these the squat tower and nave
of tho church turned. Now saw only
tho water and the dark line Of trees which
fringed tho farther bank. But above these
the stars were shining.
Yet in my mind there was no starlight
There all was blur Of wild passions and
resolves. Shame and an angry resentment
against those who had kept me SO long in
ignornnce-eyen against Sir AnthtNy-
were my uppermost feelings. smarted
under the Thought that had been living
on his charity. remembered many u
time when I had taken much on myself,
and he had smiled, and the remembrance
stung me. longed to assert myself and
70 something to wipe off the stain.