Consequently only a portion of the de la Pole estates were returned and in exchange for these the King demanded a payment of five thousand pounds. Edmund was appalled but the King had stated, with an air of gracious leniency, that the sum could be paid annually over a number of years.

Although Suffolk returned to Court and was present at certain ceremonies, the King’s treatment of him continued to rankle. Henry believed that the young man had had a sharp lesson and would think twice before following in his brother’s footsteps, which he must see had led to his early death and the loss of prestige and property. His claim to the throne—flimsy though it was—caused the King to watch him with some concern, but it seemed that Suffolk had realized that his best hope of living comfortably was to be a loyal subject; he was with the army which had marched to Blackheath and dispersed the rebellious Cornishmen. Henry was pleased; perhaps he had nothing to fear from the young man; but of course he would remain watchful.

Then an unfortuante incident occurred. Suffolk had been involved in a quarrel and in the heat of passion had drawn his sword and run his adversary through the heart.

This was murder and Henry was not going to allow crimes of that nature to go unpunished.

Suffolk was enraged. It had been a fair fight, he insisted. Moreover he was royal; he did not expect to be treated as an ordinary person.

“The King has robbed me of much of my estate,” he said, “and in doing so forgets I am of the royal House of York. Would he indict me in the King’s Bench like some ordinary felon?”

“Murder is a felony,” was the King’s answer to that, “and those who commit it cannot be excused because of their royal blood.”

“Henry does not like those of us of the House of York who might be said to have more claim to the throne than an upstart Welshman,” was Suffolk’s impetuous retort.

His friends warned him of talking too freely but Suffolk was recalling the loss of the large portion of his estates and he was feeling reckless.

It was inevitable that some of his words should reach the King’s ear. A dangerous man, thought Henry. One who should be guarded against not so much because of his temper but because of his connection with the House of York.

Here was the old bogy rising once more. Lambert Simnel . . . and away in the distance the shadowy figures of two small boys in the Tower.

He brooded over Suffolk; he asked certain questions about his movements.

Suffolk had his friends, and they advised him to get away for a while until the affair of the killing blew over and as Suffolk had no intention of standing trial, in early August when the weather was calm he crossed the Channel without fuss, determined the King should not be aware of his departure until he was well away.

On arriving in France his first call was at the Castle of Guisnes near Calais. He knew he would receive a warm welcome there for the custodian of the castle was his old friend Sir James Tyrrell.