"Fetch it! Go: time flieth!" Lord Hertford flew to Tom, but returned to the King before very long, troubled and empty-handed.

He delivered himself to this effect-- "It grieveth me, my lord the King, to bear so heavy and unwelcome tidings; but it is the will of God that the prince's affliction abideth still, and he cannot recall to mind that he received the Seal.

So came I quickly to report, thinking it were waste of precious time, and little worth withal, that any should attempt to search the long array of chambers and saloons that belong unto his royal high--" A groan from the King interrupted the lord at this point.

After a little while his majesty said, with a deep sadness in his tone-- "Trouble him no more, poor child.

The hand of God lieth heavy upon him, and my heart goeth out in loving compassion for him, and sorrow that I may not bear his burden on mine old trouble-weighted shoulders, and so bring him peace." He closed his eyes, fell to mumbling, and presently was silent.