and, believing them treacherous, when, in fact, they were only embarrassed with difficulties too complicated to be avowed, Henry fell deeper than even his minister under the snares of the queen-mother. He was 'in marvellous perplexity' what to say of their late doings—of 'the strange fashion of removing the Cardinal, denied at first, doubted of after, then granted by Sir George Douglas.' He would no longer 'be deceived by fair words, and the deeds so repugnant to them,' while in the subtle daughter of the Duke of Guise he imagined that he saw 'a frank and plain manner of proceeding, such as motherly love to the surety of her child should in manner persuade her unto.'[1] In his exasperation he even extended his confidence to her judgment as well as to herself. Those on whom he had depended had failed him. He believed, after all, that he might expect more from the party who had been his open enemies, and listened with despairing credulity to her praises of Cardinal Beton. The latter, to whom the queen-mother had given a hint, supported her assertions by a letter from St Andrew's to Sadler, in which after sending his hearty commendations, he said that having recovered his liberty, he was anxious to offer his services to the King's Majesty, and would be glad to see the English minister at the castle.[2] Henry supposed that the offers perhaps might be meant in honesty. He directed that the invitation should be accepted; he permitted the suggestion of a hope that, if the Cardinal would at length
