“Beshrew me, but I marvel they do not require to breathe for me also!” Slippered, and wrapped in a sumptuous robe, he laid himself down at last to rest, but not to sleep, for his head was too full of thoughts and the room too full of people.

He could not dismiss the former, so they stayed; he did not know enough to dismiss the latter, so they stayed also, to his vast regret — and theirs.

Tom’s departure had left his two noble guardians alone. They mused a while, with much head-shaking and walking the floor, then Lord St. John said —

“Plainly, what dost thou think?”

“Plainly, then, this. The King is near his end; my nephew is mad — mad will mount the throne, and mad remain. God protect England, since she will need it!”