CHAPTER V

MASTER MORE


It was not until nearly a month later that Ralph made an opportunity to
call upon Sir Thomas More. Cromwell had given him to understand that
there was no immediate reason for haste; his own time was tolerably
occupied, and he thought it as well not to make a show of over-great
hurry. He wrote to Sir Thomas, explaining that he wished to see him on a
matter connected with his brother Christopher, and received a courteous
reply begging him to come to dinner on the following Thursday, the
octave of the Assumption, as Sir Thomas thought it proper to add.

* * * * *

It was a wonderfully pleasant house, Ralph thought, as his wherry came
up to the foot of the garden stairs that led down from the lawn to the
river. It stood well back in its own grounds, divided from the river by
a wall with a wicket gate in it. There was a little grove of trees on
either side of it; a flock of pigeons were wheeling about the
bell-turret that rose into the clear blue sky, and from which came a
stroke or two, announcing the approach of dinner-time as he went up the
steps.

There was a figure lying on its face in the shadow by the house, as