What should he do ?--pretend he knew this lad, and then betray by his every utterance that he had never heard of him before?
No, that would not do.

An idea came to his relief: accidents like this might be likely to happen with some frequency, now that business urgencies would often call Hertford and St.John from his side, they being members of the Council of Executors; therefore perhaps it would be well to strike out a plan himself to meet the requirements of such emergencies.

Yes, that would be a wise course--he would practise on this boy, and see what sort of success he might achieve.

So he stroked his brow perplexedly a moment or two, and presently said-- "Now I seem to remember thee somewhat--but my wit is clogged and dim with suffering--" "Alack, my poor master!" ejaculated the whipping-boy, with feeling; adding, to himself, "In truth 'tis as they said--his mind is gone--alas, poor soul! But misfortune catch me, how am I forgetting! They said one must not seem to observe that aught is wrong with him." "'Tis strange how my memory doth wanton with me these days," said Tom.
"But mind it not--I mend apace--a little clue doth often serve to bring me back again the things and names which had escaped me.

(And not they, only, forsooth, but e'en such as I ne'er heard before--as this lad shall see.) Give thy business speech." "'Tis matter of small weight, my liege, yet will I touch upon it, an' it please your Grace.