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+Project Gutenberg's The Tangled Skein, by Emmuska Orczy, Baroness Orczy
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Tangled Skein
+
+Author: Emmuska Orczy, Baroness Orczy
+
+Release Date: September 20, 2011 [EBook #37481]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TANGLED SKEIN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from scanned images of public domain material
+from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Did she guess what a dainty picture she made?--Page 100]
+
+
+
+
+THE TANGLED SKEIN
+
+
+
+
+  By the Same Author
+
+  I WILL REPAY
+  THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL
+  BY THE GODS BELOVED
+  THE EMPEROR'S CANDLESTICKS
+  A SON OF THE PEOPLE
+
+
+
+
+THE TANGLED SKEIN
+
+BY THE BARONESS ORCZY
+
+[Illustration]
+
+LONDON
+GREENING & CO., LTD.
+1907
+All rights reserved
+
+
+
+      DEDICATION
+
+      TO MY LITTLE SON JACK
+      AND TO HIS SCHOOLMATES AT "RAMSBURY"
+      BIRCHINGTON-ON-SEA
+
+      DEAR BOYS,
+
+      It was amongst you all that I wrote the last chapters
+      of this romance. To you, therefore--to your growing
+      manhood, your pretty, budding thoughts of chivalry and
+      honour, which I so loved to see developing in the
+      tender atmosphere of your dear little school-home by
+      the sea--I inscribe and dedicate this record of a
+      noble and good man's life.
+
+                                           EMMUSKA ORCZY.
+
+      BIRCHINGTON-ON-SEA
+        _February, 1907_
+
+
+
+
+            Copyright
+                in
+        The United Kingdom,
+              in the
+        Dominion of Canada,
+            and in the
+      United States of America.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+  PART I
+  MIRRAB--THE WITCH
+
+    CHAP.                                     PAGE
+       I.  EAST MOLESEY FAIR                    11
+      II.  THE WITCH'S TENT                     17
+     III.  MISCHIEF BREWING                     23
+      IV.  FRIENDS AND ENEMIES                  28
+       V.  LADIES AND GALLANTS                  33
+      VI.  THE LADY URSULA                      41
+     VII.  HIS GRACE OF WESSEX                  46
+    VIII.  SILKEN BONDS                         52
+      IX.  THE VEILED WITCH                     59
+
+
+  PART II
+  THE LADY URSULA
+
+       X.  A BEVY OF FAIR MAIDENS               73
+      XI.  THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL              80
+     XII.  INTRIGUES                            88
+    XIII.  HIS EMINENCE                         93
+     XIV.  THE DESTINIES OF EUROPE              99
+      XV.  THE HAND OF FATE                    103
+     XVI.  THE ULTIMATUM                       114
+    XVII.  AN ARMED TRUCE                      120
+   XVIII.  THE VEILED WITCH                    127
+
+
+  PART III
+  A GAME OF CHESS
+
+     XIX.  THE PAWNS                           139
+      XX.  DEPARTURE                           153
+     XXI.  THE BLACK KNIGHT                    159
+    XXII.  THE WHITE QUEEN                     168
+   XXIII.  CHECK TO THE QUEEN                  177
+    XXIV.  CHECK TO THE KING                   187
+     XXV.  THE CARDINAL'S MOVE                 192
+    XXVI.  THE PROVOCATION                     198
+   XXVII.  THE FIGHT                           204
+  XXVIII.  THE SEQUEL OF THE COMEDY            210
+    XXIX.  CHECK-MATE                          217
+
+
+  PART IV
+  HIS GRACE OF WESSEX
+
+     XXX.  THOUGHTS                            225
+    XXXI.  MARYE, THE QUEENE                   229
+   XXXII.  A BARGAIN                           243
+  XXXIII.  IN THE LORD CHANCELLOR'S COURT      252
+   XXXIV.  WESTMINSTER HALL                    269
+    XXXV.  THE TRIAL                           279
+   XXXVI.  AFTERWARDS                          294
+  XXXVII.  THE CARDINAL'S PUPPETS              300
+ XXXVIII.  THE LAST FAREWELL                   306
+   XXXIX.  A FORLORN HOPE                      314
+      XL.  POOR MIRRAB                         318
+     XLI.  THE END                             331
+
+
+
+
+PART I
+
+MIRRAB--THE WITCH
+
+
+
+
+THE TANGLED SKEIN
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+EAST MOLESEY FAIR
+
+
+Even Noailles, in his letters to his royal master, admits that the
+weather was glorious, and that the climatic conditions left nothing to
+be desired.
+
+Even Noailles! Noailles, who detested England as the land of humid
+atmospheres and ill-dressed women!
+
+Renard, who was more of a diplomatist and kept his opinions on the fogs
+and wenches of Old England very much to himself, declared
+enthusiastically in his letter to the Emperor Charles V, dated October
+2nd, 1553, that never had he seen the sky so blue, the sun so bright,
+nor the people of this barbarous island more merry than on the memorable
+first day of East Molesey Fair: as all who will, may read for themselves
+in Vol. III of the Granvelle Papers:--
+
+"_Aulcungs ne pourroient contempler ciel plus bleu soleil plus
+brillianct ni peuple plus joieult._"
+
+Yet what have we to do with the opinions of these noble ambassadors of
+great and mighty foreign monarchs?
+
+Our own chroniclers tell us that East Molesey Fair was the maddest,
+merriest, happiest time the goodly folk of the Thames Valley had had
+within memory of the oldest inhabitant.
+
+Was not good Queene Marye, beloved daughter of the great King Henry
+VIII, crowned at last? crowned in Westminster Abbey, as all her loyal
+subjects had desired that she should be, despite His Grace of
+Northumberland and his treasonable faction, whom God and the Queene's
+most lawful Majesty would punish all in good time?
+
+In the meanwhile let us be joyful and make merry!
+
+Such a motley crowd as never was seen. Here's a sheriff from London
+City, pompous and dignified in dark doublet and hose, with scarlet
+mantle and velvet cap; beside him his lady trips right merrily, her
+damask kirtle held well above her high-heeled shoes, her flowered
+paniers looped in the latest style, with just the suggestion of a
+farthingale beneath her robes, to give dignity to her figure and value
+to the slimness of her waist.
+
+Here a couple of solemn burgesses in velvet cloaks edged with fur, and
+richly slashed doublets, are discussing the latest political events;
+whilst a group of Hampton merchants, more soberly clad, appraise the
+wares of a cutler lately hailed from Spain.
+
+Then the dames and maidens with puffed paniers of blue or vivid scarlet,
+moving swiftly from booth to booth, babbling like so many gaily-plumaged
+birds, squabbling with the vendors and chaffing the criers.
+
+Here and there the gaudy uniform of one of the liveried Companies will
+attract the eye, anon the dark cloak and close black mask which
+obviously hides the Court gallant.
+
+Men of all ranks and of all stations have come out to East Molesey
+to-day. Merchants, shopkeepers, workers, aldermen and servants, all with
+their womenkind, all with pouches more or less well filled, for who
+would go to Molesey Fair but to spend money, to drink, to eat, or to
+make merry?
+
+Then there were the 'prentices!
+
+They had no money to spend, save a copper or so to throw to a
+mountebank, but nevertheless they contrived to enjoy themselves right
+royally.
+
+Such imps of mischief!
+
+No whipping-post to-day! Full licence for all their pranks and madcap
+jokes. The torment of all these worthy burgesses out on a holiday.
+
+Oh! these 'prentices!
+
+Hundreds of them out here this afternoon. They've come down from Esher
+and Hampton, Kingston and Westminster and London City, like so many
+buzzing insects seeking whom they can annoy.
+
+Now on the ground, suddenly tripping a pompous dame off her feet; anon
+in rows, some half-dozen of them, elbow to elbow, head foremost,
+charging the more serious crowd, and with a hoot and a yell scattering
+it like a number of frightened goslings. Yet again at the confect booth,
+to the distraction of the vendors of honey-cakes, stealing sugar-plums
+and damson cheese, fighting, quarrelling, screeching, their thin legs
+encased in hose of faded blue or grey worsted, their jerkins loose,
+their shirt sleeves flapping in the breeze, a cool note of white amidst
+the dark-coloured gowns of the older men.
+
+Heavens above! what a to-do!
+
+A group of women be-coiffed, apparelled in best kirtles and modish
+shoes, were pressing round a booth where pantoufles, embroidered
+pouches, kerchiefs, and velveted paniers were laid out in tempting
+array.
+
+Just beyond, a number of buxom country wenches, with round red arms,
+showing bare to the grilling sun, and laughing eyes, aglow with
+ill-concealed gourmandise, were gaping at a mighty display of pullets,
+hares, and pigeons, sides of roebuck and haunches of wild boar, ready
+spiked, trussed, and skewered, fit to tempt Her Majesty's Grace's own
+royal palate.
+
+Sprigs of sweet-scented marjoram, thyme, and wool-blade tastefully
+disposed, further enhanced the attractions of this succulent show. 'Twas
+enough to make the sweetest mouth water with anticipatory delight. A
+brown-eyed, apple-cheeked wench in paniers of brilliant red was
+unaffectedly licking her pretty lips.
+
+"This way, mistress, this way!" shouted the vendor of these appetizing
+wares. A sturdy fellow, he, with ginger-coloured pate, and wielding a
+long narrow-bladed knife in his fleshy hand. "This way! a haunch of buck
+from the royal venery! a hare from Her Liege Majesty's own chase! a
+pullet from----"
+
+"Nay, thou gorbellied knave!" responded a vendor of drugs and herbs
+close by, whose stall was somewhat deserted, and whose temper was
+obviously suffering--"Nay! an thou speakest the truth thou art a thief,
+but if not, then thou'rt a liar! In either case art fit for the
+hangman's rope!"
+
+"This way, my masters! this way!" came in loud, stentorian cries from a
+neighbouring booth; "this way for Peter the juggler, the greatest
+conjurer the world has ever seen!"
+
+"This way! I pray you, worthy sirs!" this from yet another place of
+entertainment, "this way for John the tumbler!"
+
+"Peter the juggler will swallow a cross-bow of steel before your very
+eyes!" shouted one crier.
+
+"John the tumbler will climb Saint Ethelburga's steeple without help of
+rope or ladder," called the other.
+
+"Peter will show you how to shoe a turkey, how to put salt on a
+swallow's tail, and how to have your cake and eat it!"
+
+"John will sit on two stools without coming to the ground!"
+
+"Marry! and ye both lie faster than my mule can trot!" came in hilarious
+accents from one of the crowd.
+
+"And Peter the juggler will show thee how to make thy mule trot faster
+than thou canst lie, friend," responded Peter's crier unabashed, "and a
+mighty difficult task 'twill be, I'll warrant."
+
+Laughing, joking, ogling like some fickle jade, the crowd passed from
+booth to booth: now dropping a few coins in Peter the juggler's hat, now
+watching the antics of John the tumbler; anon looking on amazed, half
+terrified at the evolutions of a gigantic brown bear, led by the nose by
+a vigorous knave in leather jerkin and cross-gartered hose, and
+accompanied by a youngster who was blowing on a mighty sackbut until his
+cheeks looked nigh to bursting.
+
+But adsheart! who shall tell of all the attractions which were set forth
+on that memorable day before the loyal subjects of good Queene Marye?
+
+There were the trestles where one could play at ball and knuckle-bone,
+or chance and mumchance; another, where evens and odds and backgammon
+proved tempting. He who willed could tilt at Weekie, play quoits or
+lansquenet, at ball or at the billiards, or risk his coppers on such
+games as one-and-thirty, or at the pass ten; he might try his skill,
+too, at throwing the dart, or his strength at putting the stone.
+
+There were mountebanks and quacksalvers, lapidaries at work, and
+astrologers in their tents. For twopence one could have a bout with the
+back-sword or the Spanish tuck, could watch the situations and
+conjunctions of the fixed stars and the planets, could play a game of
+tennis or pelitrigone, or be combed and curled, perfumed and trimmed so
+as to please a dainty mistress's eye.
+
+And through it all the loud bang! bang! bang! of the big drums, the
+criers proclaiming the qualities of their wares, the jarring notes of
+the sackbut and the allman flute, the screechy viol and the strident
+nine-hole pipe, all playing against one another, each striving to drown
+the other, and mingling with the laughter of the crowd, the yells of the
+'prentices, the babble of the women, formed a huge volume of
+ear-splitting cacophony which must have been heard from one end of the
+country to the other.
+
+All was noise, merriment, and laughter, save in one spot--an
+out-of-the-way, half-hidden corner of the fair, where the sister
+streams, the Ember and the Mole, join hands for a space, meet but to
+part again, and whence the distant towers and cupolas of Hampton Court
+appeared like those of a fairy palace floating in mid-ether, perched
+high aloft in the shimmering haze of this hot late summer's afternoon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE WITCH'S TENT
+
+
+There are many accounts still extant of the various doings at East
+Molesey Fair on this 2nd of October in the year of our Lord 1553, and
+several chroniclers--Renard is conspicuous among the latter--make
+mention of the events which very nearly turned the gay and varying
+comedies of that day into weird and tragic drama.
+
+Certainly the witch's tent was a mistake.
+
+But what would you? No doubt the worthy individual, who for purposes of
+mystification called himself "Abra," had tried many means of earning a
+livelihood before he and his associate in business took to the
+lucrative, yet dangerous trade of necromancy.
+
+He was tall and gaunt, with hooked nose and deep-sunk eyes; he had
+cultivated a long, grey beard, and could call forth the powers of Mirrab
+the Witch with a remarkably solemn and guttural voice.
+
+As for Mirrab herself, no one was allowed to see her. That was part of
+the business. She was a witch, a dealer in magic potions, charms and
+philters, a reader of the stars, and--softly be it spoken--a friend and
+companion of the devil! She only appeared enveloped in a thick veil,
+with divining wand held lightly in her hand, the ends of her gold
+tresses alone visible below the heavy covering which swathed her head.
+
+It was the mystery of it all--cheap devices at best--which from the
+first had irritated the country-folk who thronged the Fair.
+
+The tent itself was unlike any other ever seen at East Molesey. It stood
+high upon a raised wooden platform, to which a few rough steps gave
+access. On the right was a tall flagstaff, with black flag emblazoned
+with white skull and cross-bones, fluttering lazily in the breeze.
+
+On the left a huge elm tree, with great heavy branches overshadowing the
+tent, had been utilized to support a placard bearing the words--
+
+      "Mirrab! the World-famed Necromancer!
+       Sale of Magic Charms and Love Philters
+       Horoscope Casting and Elixir of Life!"
+
+Perched on the platform, and assisted by a humbler henchman, armed with
+big drum and cymbals, the worthy Abra, in high-peaked cap and flowing
+mantle covered with strange devices, had all day long invited customers
+to his booth by uttering strange, mysterious promises.
+
+"This way, this way, my masters," he would say with imposing solemnity;
+"the world-famous necromancer, Mirrab, will evoke for you the spirits of
+Mars, of Saturn, or of the moon."
+
+"She will show you the Grand Grimorium. . . !"
+
+Now what was the Grand Grimorium? The very sound of the words suggested
+some agency of the devil; no Christian man had ever heard or spoken of
+the Grand Grimorium.
+
+"She will show you the use of the blasting rod and the divining wand.
+She will call forth the elementary spirits. . . ."
+
+Some people would try to laugh. Who had ever heard of the elementary
+spirits? Perhaps if some of the more enlightened town worthies happened
+to be nigh the booth, one or two of them would begin to chaff the
+necromancer.
+
+"And prithee, friend wizard," a solemn burgher would suggest, "prithee
+what are the elementary spirits?"
+
+But Abra was nothing if not ready-witted.
+
+"The elementary spirits," he would explain with imperturbable gravity,
+"are the green butterfly, the black pullet, the queen of the hairy
+flies, and the screech owl."
+
+The weird nomenclature was enough to make any one's hair stand on end.
+Even the sedate burgesses would shake their heads and silently edge
+away, whilst their womenkind would run swiftly past the booth, muttering
+a quick _Ave_ to the blessed Virgin or kissing the Holy Scapulary hung
+beneath their kerchiefs, as their terrified glances met the cabalistic
+signs on the black flag.
+
+The humbler country-folk frankly spat upon the ground three times
+whenever they caught sight of the flag, and that is a sure way of
+sending the devil about his business.
+
+The shadows now were beginning to lengthen.
+
+The towers and cupolas of Hampton Court Palace were studded with gold
+and gems by the slanting rays of the setting sun.
+
+It had been a glorious afternoon and, except in the open space
+immediately in front of the witch's tent, the fun of the fair had lost
+none of its zest.
+
+The witch's booth alone was solitary--weird-looking beneath the
+spreading branches of the overhanging elm.
+
+The tent seemed lighted from within, for as the evening breeze stirred
+its hangings, gleams of brilliant red, more glowing than the sunset,
+appeared in zigzag streaks between its folds.
+
+Behind, and to the right and left of it, the gentle murmur of the sister
+streams sounded like ghostly whisperings of evening sprites, busy
+spreading their grey mantles over the distant landscape.
+
+As the afternoon wore on, the crowd in the other parts of the Fair had
+grown more and more dense, and now, among the plainer garb of the
+burgesses and townsfolk, and the jerkins and worsted hose of the yokels,
+could be seen quite frequently a silken doublet or velvet trunk, a
+masked face perhaps beneath a plumed bonnet, or the point of a sword
+gleaming beneath the long, dark mantle, denoting the Court gallant.
+
+Now and then, too, hooded and closely swathed forms would flit quickly
+through the crowd, followed by the inquisitive glances of the humbler
+folk, as the dainty tip of a broidered shoe or the richly wrought hem of
+a silken kirtle, protruding below the cloak, betrayed the lady of rank
+and fashion on gay adventure bent.
+
+Most of these veiled figures had found their way up the rough wooden
+steps which led to the witch's tent. The fame of Mirrab, the Soothsayer,
+had reached the purlieus of the palace, and Abra, the magician, had more
+than once seen his lean palm crossed with gold.
+
+"This way, noble lords! this way!"
+
+He was even now trying to draw the attention of two cloaked figures, who
+had just emerged in sight of the booth.
+
+Two gentlemen of the Court evidently, for Abra's quick eye had caught a
+glimpse of richly chased sword-hilts, as the wind blew the heavy, dark
+mantles to one side.
+
+But these gentlemen were paying little heed to the worthy magician's
+blandishments. They were whispering excitedly to one another, whilst
+eagerly scanning the crowd all round them.
+
+"They were ladies from the Court, I feel sure," said the taller man of
+the two; "I swear I have seen the hem of that kirtle before."
+
+"Carramba!" replied the other, "it promised well, but methinks we've
+lost track of them now."
+
+He spoke English very fluently, yet with a strong, guttural intonation,
+whilst the well-known Spanish oath which he uttered betrayed his
+nationality.
+
+"Pardi!" he added impatiently, "I could have sworn that the damsels were
+bent on consulting the witch."
+
+"Nay, only on seeing the fun of the Fair apparently," rejoined the
+other; "we've lain in wait here now for nigh on half an hour."
+
+"Mirrab the Soothsayer will evoke for you the spirits of the moon, oh
+noble lords!" urged Abra, with ever-increasing persuasiveness. "She will
+give you the complaisance of the entire female sex."
+
+"What say you, my lord," said the Englishman after a while, "shall we
+give up the quest after those elusive damsels and woo these obliging
+spirits of the moon? They say the witch has marvellous powers."
+
+"Bah, milor!" rejoined the Spaniard gaily, "a veiled female! Think on
+it! Those who have entered yon mysterious tent declare that scarce an
+outline of that soothsayer could they glean, beneath the folds of thick
+draperies which hide her from view. What is a shapeless woman? I ask
+you, milor. And in England, too," he added with affected gallantry which
+had more than a touch of sarcasm in it, "where all women are shapely."
+
+"Mirrab, the world-famous necromancer, will bring to your arms the lady
+of your choice, oh most noble lords!" continued the persistent Abra,
+"even if she were hidden beyond the outermost corners of the earth."
+
+"By my halidame! this decides me," quoth the Englishman merrily. "I pray
+you come, my lord. This adventure promises better than the other. And,
+who knows?" he added in his turn with thinly-veiled, pleasant irony,
+"you Spaniards are so persuasive--the witch, if she be young and fair,
+might lift her veil for you."
+
+"Allons!" responded the other, "since 'tis your wish, milor, let us
+consult the spirits."
+
+And, standing aside with the courtly grace peculiar to those of his
+nationality, he allowed his companion to precede him up the steps which
+led to Mirrab's tent.
+
+Then he too followed, and laughing and chattering the two men
+disappeared behind the gaudily painted draperies.
+
+Not, however, without tossing a couple of gold pieces into the hands of
+the wizard. Abra, obsequious, smiling, thoroughly contented, sat himself
+down to rest awhile beside his patient, hard-worked henchman.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+MISCHIEF BREWING
+
+
+At some little distance from the mysterious booth a trestle table had
+been erected, at which some three or four wenches in hooped paniers and
+short, striped kirtles, were dispensing spiced ale and sack to the
+thirsty village folk.
+
+Here it was that Mirrab the witch and her attendant wizard were most
+freely discussed--with bated breath, and with furtive glances cast
+hurriedly at the black flag, which was just visible above the row of
+other booths and gayer attractions of the Fair.
+
+There was no doubt that as the evening began to draw in, and the sun to
+sink lower and lower in the west, the superstitious terror, which had
+all along set these worthy country yokels against the awesome mysteries
+of the necromancer's tent, had gradually culminated into a hysterical
+frenzy.
+
+At first sullen looks had been cast towards that distant spot, whence
+the sound of Abra's perpetual "This way, noble lords, this way!" came
+every now and then as a weird and ghostly echo; but now muttered curses
+and even a threatening gesture from time to time had taken the place of
+angry silence.
+
+As the hard pates of these louts became heated with the foaming ale,
+their tempers began to rise, and the girls, with characteristic love of
+mischief and gossip, were ready enough to add fuel to the smouldering
+flames.
+
+There was also present in the minds of these wenches an obvious feeling
+of jealousy against this mysterious veiled witch, who had proved so
+attractive to the Court gallants who visited the Fair.
+
+Her supposed charms so carefully hidden beneath thick draperies, were
+reputed to be irresistible, and Mistress Dorothy, Susan, and Joan, who
+showed their own pretty faces unblushingly, were not sufficiently versed
+in mountebanks' tricks to realize that Mirrab's thick veil was, without
+doubt, only a means for arousing the jaded curiosity of idlers from the
+Court.
+
+Be that as it may, it was an established fact that no one had seen the
+soothsayer's face, and that Mistress Dorothy, who was pouring out a huge
+tankard of sack for her own attendant swain, was exceedingly annoyed
+thereby.
+
+"Bah!" she said contemptuously, as Abra and his magic devices were being
+discussed at the table, "he is but a lout. I tell thee, Matthew, that
+thou'rt a fool to take count of him. But the woman," she added under her
+breath, "is possessed of the devil."
+
+Matthew, the shoemaker, took the tankard, which his sweetheart had
+filled for him, in both hands and took a long draught before he made any
+reply. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spat upon the
+ground, and looked significantly at the circle of friends who were
+gathered round him.
+
+"I tell you, my masters," he said at last with due solemnity, "that I
+saw that witch last night fly out from yonder tree astride upon a giant
+bat."
+
+"A bat?"
+
+A holy shudder went round the entire assembly. Pretty Mistress Susan
+crossed herself furtively, whilst Joan in her terror nearly dropped the
+handful of mugs which she was carrying.
+
+Every one hung on the shoemaker's lips.
+
+Short and somewhat tubby of body, Matthew had a round and chubby face,
+with pale blue, bulging eyes, and slightly elevated eyebrows, which gave
+him the appearance of an overgrown baby. He was for some reason, which
+has never transpired to this day, reputed to have wonderful wisdom. His
+items of news, gleaned from a nephew who was scullion in the royal
+kitchen, were always received with boundless respect, whilst the
+connection itself gave him a certain social superiority of which he was
+proudly conscious.
+
+Like the true-born orator, Matthew had paused a moment in order to allow
+the full strength of his utterance to sink into the minds of his
+hearers.
+
+"Aye!" he said after a while, "she flew out from between the branches
+and up towards the full moon, clad only----"
+
+A brusque movement and a blush from Mistress Dorothy here stopped the
+graphic flow of his eloquence.
+
+"Er--hem--!" he concluded more tamely, "I saw her quite plainly."
+
+"More shame then on thee, master," retorted Dorothy, whose wrath was far
+from subsiding, "for thus gazing on the devil's work."
+
+But the matter had become of far too great import to allow of feminine
+jealousies being taken into account.
+
+"And I know," added an elderly matron with quaking voice, "that my
+sister Hannah's child caught sight of the witch outside her tent this
+morning, and forthwith fell into convulsions, the poor innocent lamb."
+
+"She hath the evil eye, depend on it," quoth Dorothy decisively.
+
+The men said nothing. They were sipping their ale in sullen silence, and
+looking to Matthew for further expressions of wisdom.
+
+"Those evil spirits have oft a filthy countenance," explained the
+shoemaker sententiously, "and no doubt 'twas they helped to convulse
+Mistress Hannah's child. Some have four faces--one in the usual place,
+another at the back of the head, and one looking out on either side;
+others appear with a tall and lean body and bellow like a bull."
+
+"Hast seen them, Matthew?" came in awed whispers from those around.
+
+"Nay! God and the Holy Virgin forbid!" protested Matthew fervently. "God
+forbid that I should enter their abode of evil. I should lose my soul."
+
+There was a long, ominous silence, broken only by quickly muttered
+invocations to the saints and to Our Lady.
+
+The men looked furtively at one another. The women clung together, not
+daring to utter a sound. Mistress Dorothy, all the boldness gone out of
+her little heart, was sobbing from sheer fright.
+
+"Friends," said Matthew at last, as if with sudden resolution, "if that
+woman be possessed of the devil, what's to be done?"
+
+There was no reply, but obviously they all understood one another, for
+each wore a shame-faced look all of a sudden, and dared not meet his
+neighbour's eye. But the danger was great. The devil in their midst
+would mean poisoned wells, the sweating sickness, some dire calamity for
+sure; and it was the duty of every true-hearted countryman to protect
+his home and family from such terrible disasters.
+
+Therefore when Matthew in his wisdom said, "What's to be done?" the men
+fully understood.
+
+The women, too, knew that mischief was brewing. They drew closer to one
+another and shivered with cold beneath their kerchiefs, in spite of the
+warmth of this beautiful late summer's afternoon.
+
+"Beware of her, Matthew," entreated Mistress Dorothy tearfully.
+
+She drew a small piece of blue cloth from the bosom of her dress: it was
+pinked and broidered, and had the image of the Holy Virgin painted on
+one side of it. Quickly she slipped it under her lover's jerkin.
+
+"Take it," she whispered, "the scapulary of Our Lady will protect thee."
+
+This momentous conclave was here interrupted by the approach of the
+small detachment of the town guard which had been sent hither to ensure
+order amongst the holiday-makers.
+
+Matthew and his friends began ostentatiously to talk of the weather and
+other such trifling matters, until after the guard had passed, then once
+more they put their heads together.
+
+But this time they bade the women go. What had to be discussed now was
+men's work and unfit for wenches' ears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+FRIENDS AND ENEMIES
+
+
+In the meanwhile the two gallants were returning from their visit to the
+witch's tent.
+
+As they came down the steps more than one voice among the passers-by
+inquired eagerly--
+
+"What fortune, sirs?"
+
+"In truth she hath strange powers," was the somewhat guarded response.
+
+The two men strolled up to a neighbouring wine-vendor and ordered some
+wine. They had thrown their cloaks aside and removed their masks, for
+the air was close. The rich, slashed doublets, thus fully displayed, the
+fine lace at throat and wrist, the silken hose and chased daggers, all
+betokened the high quality and wealth of the wearers.
+
+Neither of them seemed much above thirty years of age; each had the air
+of a man in the prime of life, and in the full enjoyment of all the good
+things which the world can give.
+
+But in their actual appearance they presented a marked contrast.
+
+The one tall and broad-shouldered, florid of complexion, and somewhat
+reddish about the hair and small pointed beard; the other short,
+slender, and alert, with keen, restless eyes, and with sensuous lips for
+ever curled in a smile of thinly veiled sarcasm.
+
+Though outwardly on most familiar terms together, there was distinctly
+apparent between the two men an air of reserve, and even of decided, if
+perhaps friendly, antagonism.
+
+"Well, milor Everingham," said the Spaniard after a while, "what say you
+to our adventure?"
+
+"I say first and foremost, my lord," replied Everingham with studied
+gallantry, "that my prophecy proved correct--the mysterious necromancer
+was no proof against Spanish wiles; she unveiled at a smile from Don
+Miguel, Marquis de Suarez, the envoy of His Most Catholic Majesty."
+
+"Nay," rejoined Don Miguel, affecting not to notice the slight tone of
+sarcasm in his friend's pleasant voice, "I scarce caught a glimpse of
+the wench's face. The tent was so dark and her movements so swift."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Lord Everingham seemed lost in meditation.
+
+"You are thoughtful, milor," remarked Don Miguel. "Have the genii of the
+moon conquered your own usually lively spirits?"
+
+"Nay, I was thinking of the curious resemblance," mused Everingham.
+
+"A resemblance?--to whom?"
+
+"As you say, the tent was dark and the wench's movements swift, yet I
+could see that, though coarsely clad and ill-kempt, that witch, whom
+they call Mirrab, is the very physical counterpart of the new Court
+beauty, the Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+"The fiancee of the Duke of Wessex!" exclaimed the Spaniard.
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Nay, my lord," rejoined Everingham pointedly, "she scarce can be called
+His Grace's fiancee as yet. They were children in their cradles when
+_her_ father plighted their troth."
+
+The Spaniard made no immediate reply. With an affected, effeminate
+gesture he was gently stroking his long, black moustache. Everingham,
+on the other hand, was eyeing him keenly, with a certain look of
+defiance and challenge, and in a moment the antagonism between the two
+men appeared more marked than before.
+
+"But gossip has it," said the Marquis at last, with assumed nonchalance,
+"that Lady Ursula's father--the Earl of Truro, was it not?--swore upon
+his honour and on his deathbed that she should wed the Duke of Wessex,
+whenever he claimed her hand, or live her life in a convent. Nay, I but
+repeat the rumour which has reached me," he added lightly; "put me right
+if I am in error, my lord. I am but a stranger, and have not yet had the
+honour of meeting His Grace."
+
+"Bah!" said Everingham impatiently, "His Grace is in no humour to wed,
+nor do the Earl of Truro's deathbed vows bind _him_ in any way."
+
+He took up his bumper, and looking long and thoughtfully into it, he
+said with slow emphasis--
+
+"If the Duke of Wessex be inclined to marry, believe me, my lord
+Marquis, that it shall be none other than the Queen of England! Whom may
+God bless and protect," he added, reverently lifting his plumed hat with
+one hand, whilst with the other he held the bumper to his lips and
+tossed down the full measure of wine at one draught.
+
+"Amen to that," responded Don Miguel with the same easy nonchalance.
+
+He too drained his bumper to the dregs; then he said quietly--
+
+"But that is where we differ, milor. His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno
+and myself both hope that the Queen of England will wed our master King
+Philip of Spain."
+
+Everingham seemed as if he would reply. But with a certain effort he
+checked the impatient words which had risen to his lips. Englishmen had
+only just begun to learn the tricks and wiles of Spanish diplomacy, the
+smiles which hide antagonisms, the suave words which disguise impulsive
+thoughts.
+
+Lord Everingham had not wholly assimilated the lesson. He had frowned
+impatiently when the question of the marriage of his queen had been
+broached by the foreigner. It was a matter which roused the temper of
+every loyal Englishman just then; they would _not_ see Mary Tudor wedded
+to a stranger. England was beginning to feel her own independence; her
+children would not see her under another yoke.
+
+Mary, in spite of her Spanish mother, was English to the backbone.
+Tudor-like, she had proved her grit and her pluck when opposing factions
+tried to wrest her crown from her. She was Harry's daughter. Her loyal
+subjects were proud of her and proud of her descent, and many of them
+had sworn that none but an English husband should share her throne with
+her.
+
+With the same sarcastic smile still lurking round his full lips the
+Spaniard had watched his friend closely the while. He knew full well
+what was going on behind that florid countenance, knew the antagonism
+which the proposed Spanish marriage was rousing just then in the hearts
+and minds of Englishmen of all classes.
+
+But he certainly did not care to talk over such momentous questions at a
+country fair, with the eyes and mouths of hundreds of yokels gaping
+astonishment at him.
+
+As far as he was concerned the half-amicable discussion was closed. He
+and his friend had agreed to differ. According to Spanish ideas,
+divergence in political opinions need not interfere with pleasant
+camaraderie.
+
+With a genuine desire, therefore, to change the subject of conversation,
+Don Miguel rose from his seat and idly scanned the passing crowd.
+
+"Carramba!" he ejaculated suddenly.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Our two masks," whispered the Spaniard. "What say you, milor, shall we
+resume our interrupted adventure and abandon the tiresome field of
+politics for the more easy paths of gallantry?"
+
+And without waiting for his friend's reply, eager, impetuous, fond of
+intrigues and mysteries, the young man darted through the crowd in the
+direction where his keen eyes had spied a couple of hooded figures,
+thickly veiled, who were obviously trying to pass unperceived.
+
+Everingham followed closely on the young Spaniard's footsteps. But the
+sun had already sunk low down in the west. Outlines and silhouettes had
+become indistinct and elusive. By the time the Marquis de Suarez and his
+English friend had elbowed their way through the throng the two
+mysterious figures had once more disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LADIES AND GALLANTS
+
+
+Breathless, half laughing and half crying, very merry, yet wholly
+frightened, those same two hooded and masked figures had paused almost
+immediately beneath the platform of Mirrab's tent.
+
+They had been running very fast, and, exhausted, were now clinging to
+one another, cowering in the deepest shadow of the rough wooden
+construction.
+
+"Oh! Margaret sweet," whispered a feminine voice from behind the silken
+mask, "I vow I should have died with fright!"
+
+"Think you we have escaped them?" murmured the other feebly.
+
+She who had first spoken, taller than her friend and obviously the
+leader of this mad escapade, tiptoed cautiously forward and peered out
+into the open space.
+
+"Sh--sh--sh!" she whispered, as she dragged her unwilling companion
+after her, "do you see them? . . . right over there . . . they are
+running fast . . . Oh! ho! ho! ho!" she laughed suddenly with childish
+glee as she clapped her hands together; "but, Margaret dear! . . . did
+we not fool them merrily? . . . Oh! I could shriek for joy! Aye, run,
+run, run, my fine gallants!" she added, blowing an imaginary kiss to her
+distant pursuers, "an you go that way you'll ne'er o'ertake us, e'en
+though you raced the wind . . . ha! ha! ha! . . ."
+
+Her laugh sounded a little forced and hysterical, for she had had a
+terrible fright, and her companion was still clinging miserably,
+helplessly to her side.
+
+"Nay, Ursula, how can you be so merry?" admonished Margaret in a voice
+almost choked with tears; "think if the Duchess of Lincoln were to hear
+of this adventure--or Her Majesty herself--oh! . . ."
+
+But Ursula's gay, madcap mood was proof against Margaret's tears.
+
+"Oh! oh! oh!" she ejaculated, mimicking her friend's tones of horror.
+"Oh!" she added with mock seriousness, "well, then, of course, there
+would be trouble, Margaret mine! . . . sweet Margaret! . . . such a
+lecture! . . . and oh! oh! oh! such black looks from Her Majesty! . . .
+we should e'en--think on it!--have to look demure for at least two days,
+until our sins be forgiven us! . . ."
+
+She paused awhile, mischief apparent even beneath the half-transparent
+lace which hid her laughter-loving mouth. She drew her trembling
+companion closer to her, and, still laughing, she coaxed her gently.
+
+"There, there, sweet," she murmured, "cheer up, I pray thee, cheer up.
+. . . See, we have come to the end of our journey. We have baffled those
+persistent gallants, and this is the witch's tent. Margaret!" she added
+with an impatient tap of the foot, "art a goose to go on crying so? I
+vow I'd have come alone had I known thou'rt such a coward."
+
+"Ursula!" said Margaret, somewhat emboldened by her friend's assurance,
+"could you guess who were those two gallants?"
+
+"Nay," replied Ursula indifferently, "one of them, methinks, was the
+Marquis de Suarez, for I caught sight of his black silk hose, but what
+do we care about these nincompoops, Margaret? Come and see the witch--we
+have no time to lose."
+
+Eagerly she turned towards the booth, and somewhat awed, anxious, yet
+not wholly daring, she gazed up in astonishment at the gaudy draperies,
+the tall flagstaff, the weird black flag with its strange device. Then
+with sudden resolution she planted her foot upon the bottom step.
+
+"Wilt follow me, sweet?" she asked.
+
+Even as she spoke Abra, in tall peaked cap and flowing mantle, emerged
+from within the tent.
+
+Margaret, who was screwing up her courage to follow her friend, gave a
+shriek of dismay.
+
+"No! no! no! Ursula!" she said, clinging to the other girl, not daring
+to look up at the awesome figure of the lean magician. "I implore you,
+give up the thought."
+
+"Give up the thought?" rejoined Ursula, boldly trying to smother her own
+superstitious fears, "when I've gone thus far?"
+
+"I cannot think what you want with that horrid witch!" pleaded Margaret.
+
+At sight of Abra's long white beard, his wizard's wand, and cloak
+covered with cabalistic signs, even Ursula's courage had begun to ebb.
+She had hastily retreated from the steps and followed Margaret once more
+within the protecting shelter of the shadows.
+
+"I want to know my fortune, Margaret mine," she said in a voice which
+was not quite as firm as before, "and I hear that this witch can see
+into the future. 'Tis said that she has marvellous powers."
+
+"Why should you want to know the future?" persisted timid, practical
+Margaret; "is not the present good enough for you?"
+
+"His Grace of Wessex comes back to Court to-day," rejoined Ursula,
+"after an absence of many months."
+
+"Well?--what of him?"
+
+"What of him? . . . Margaret, art stupid, or art not my friend? . . .
+Is it not natural that I should wish to know whether I am to be Duchess
+of Wessex or abbess in a holy but uncomfortable convent?"
+
+"Yes, 'tis natural enough," assented Margaret thoughtfully, "but----"
+
+"His Grace has never seen me since I was so long," said Ursula with a
+short, impatient sigh, and stretching out a round arm decked with a
+sleeve of rich silk and fine lace. "I had a red face then, and pap was
+stuffed into my mouth to keep me quiet. You see, I could not have been
+madly alluring then."
+
+"And you are beautiful now, Ursula. But of what avail is it? You cannot
+wed His Grace of Wessex, for he'll never ask you to be his wife. He'll
+marry the Queen. All England wishes it."
+
+"But I wish him to marry me," quoth Ursula with a resolute tap of her
+high-heeled shoe against the ground. "Yes, me! and I want that witch
+yonder to ask the stars if he will fall in love with me when he sees me,
+or if he will yield to those who want to make of him a tool for their
+political ambition, and marry an ugly, ill-tempered old woman who
+happens to be Queen of England."
+
+"Ursula!"
+
+Margaret's horror, amazement, and awe had rendered her almost
+speechless. Ursula's utterance was nearly sacrilegious, in these days
+when kings and queens ruled by right divine.
+
+But the young girl continued, quite unabashed by her friend's rebuke.
+
+"Well," she said imperturbably, "you can't deny that the Queen is old!
+. . . and ugly! . . . and ill-tempered! . . ."
+
+Margaret, however, was prepared to deny these monstrous statements with
+the last breath left in her delicate body. The poor little soul was
+frightened out of her wits.
+
+Suppose some one had overheard!--and repeated the tale that two of the
+Queen's ladies-in-waiting had called Her Majesty old!--and ugly!--and
+ill-tempered!----
+
+Nay, Ursula's madcap freaks were past bearing! and would lead her into
+serious trouble one of these days.
+
+"Margaret," whispered the delinquent, who still seemed quite unaware of
+the enormity of her offence, "hast thou ever seen His Grace of Wessex?"
+
+"No," replied Margaret curtly, for she was still very wrathful, and
+vaguely felt that, at this stage, all references to the Duke were
+somehow treasonable.
+
+"Nor I since I was a baby," sighed Ursula; "but see here. . . ."
+
+From beneath the folds of her cloak she drew a chain and locket, and
+holding the latter before Margaret's unwilling eyes, she said
+ecstatically--
+
+"That's his picture. Isn't he handsome?"
+
+"You've fallen in love with his picture!"
+
+"Madly!"
+
+"Madly indeed!" retorted Margaret.
+
+Ursula once more hid the locket inside her robe. She had regained all
+her courage. Once more dragging her weaker companion by the wrist she
+turned towards the witch's booth.
+
+Abra, the magician, tired out by his day's exertions, had settled
+himself down on a tattered piece of rug outside the tent; there he had
+fallen peacefully asleep, his venerable head thrown back, his lean
+shanks hanging over the edge of the platform and snoring the snore of
+the just. Thus he had failed to spy the two hooded, dainty figures, who
+had all along kept within the shadows.
+
+Suddenly through his pleasant slumbers he heard an eagerly whispered--
+
+"Hey! friend!"
+
+Whilst the toe of his shoe was violently tagged at from below.
+
+"Friend, wake!"
+
+"They won't listen!" added an impatient, half-tearful voice.
+
+But already Abra was on his feet. Giving his humble henchman a violent
+kick to wake him up, he began to mutter mechanically, even before he was
+fully conscious--
+
+"What ho, my masters! consult the world-famous necromancer----"
+
+Bang! bang! bang! on the big drum came automatically from his henchman,
+who was only half awake.
+
+"No! no! no!" entreated Ursula, "I prithee not so much noise! We wish to
+consult the soothsayer . . . we've brought some money . . . three gold
+pieces . . . is that enough? . . . But in the name of Our Lady I beg of
+thee not to make so much noise."
+
+Timidly she held up a silken purse towards the astonished wizard. Three
+gold pieces!--why, 'twas a fortune, the like of which the worthy Abra
+had never beheld in one sum in his life.
+
+To ask him not to make a noise was to demand the impossible. With one
+hand he pushed his henchman vigorously to one side. The latter dropped
+his cymbals, which rattled off the platform with an ear-splitting crash.
+
+All the while Abra in stentorian tones, and holding back the folds of
+the tent, was shouting at the top of his voice--
+
+"This way, ladies! for the great soothsayer Mirrab, the sale of
+love-philters and charms, and of the true elixir of life."
+
+"The die is cast, Margaret mine," said Ursula, trying vainly to steady
+her voice, which was trembling, and her knees which were shaking beneath
+her. "Art coming?--Oh! I--I--feel a little nervous," she admitted in
+spite of herself, "and you--oh! how your hand trembles. . . ."
+
+She was frankly terrified now. The noise was so awful, and though she
+did not dare look to the right or left of her she was conscious that she
+and her friend were no longer alone on the open place. She could hear
+the murmur of voices, the sound of idle folk gathering in every
+direction.
+
+Her instinct suggested immediate flight, and the abandonment of this mad
+adventure while there was yet time, but her pride urged her to proceed.
+She gripped Margaret's wrist with a resolute hand and made a quick rush
+for the steps.
+
+Alas! she was just two seconds too late. The next instant she felt her
+waist seized firmly from behind, whilst a merry voice shouted--
+
+"Cornered at last!"
+
+Wrenching herself free with a sudden twist of her firm young shoulders,
+Ursula contrived to liberate herself momentarily. She was dimly
+conscious of having caught sight of Margaret in the like plight as
+herself.
+
+"Not so fast, fair one," whispered an insinuating voice close to her, "a
+word in thy pretty ear."
+
+Oh! the shame of this vulgar adventure! Pursued like some kitchen wench
+out on a spree, by a gallant, eager for an idle kiss.
+
+She felt her cheeks tingle underneath her mask; saw and guessed the
+short laugh, the shrug of the shoulders of the idlers round, far too
+accustomed to these spectacles to take more than passing note of it.
+
+Once more the firm grip had seized her waist. This time she felt herself
+powerless to struggle.
+
+"Nay, in the name of heaven, sir," she entreated tearfully, "I pray you
+let me go."
+
+"Not until I have caught a nearer sight of those bright eyes, that shine
+at me through that cruel mask."
+
+The soft guttural tones revealed the identity of the speaker to Ursula.
+She knew Don Miguel well; knew his wild, impudent spirit, his love of
+idle flirtations which had already made him the terror of the prim
+Queen's Court. She knew that she would not be allowed to escape before
+this ridiculous episode had been brought to its usual conclusion.
+
+Oh! how she longed for the Duchess of Lincoln's severe guardianship at
+this moment! How bitterly she repented the folly which had prompted her
+to drag Margaret along into this wild adventure.
+
+Poor Margaret! she, too, was doing her best to evade the unwelcome
+attentions of her gallant! and that magician! and those louts! all
+grinning like so many apes at the spectacle.
+
+It was maddening!
+
+And she was helpless!
+
+The next moment the young Spaniard's indiscreet hands had snatched the
+protecting mask from her face, and the daintiest and most perfect
+picture Nature had ever fashioned stood revealed, blushing with shame
+and vexation, before his delighted, slightly sarcastic gaze.
+
+"Ah! luck favours me indeed!" he murmured with avowed admiration, "the
+newly-risen star--nay! the brightest sun in the firmament of beauty! the
+Lady Ursula Glynde!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE LADY URSULA
+
+
+She was only nineteen then. Not very tall, yet perfectly proportioned,
+and with that small, oval face of hers which delighted yet puzzled all
+the artists of the epoch.
+
+The dark hood of her cloak had fallen back at the impertinent gesture of
+the young Spaniard; her fair hair, slightly touched with warm gold,
+escaped in a few unruly curls from beneath the stiff coif of brocade
+which encircled her pretty head.
+
+The neck was long; the shoulders, rich, young and firm, gleamed like
+ivory beneath the primly folded kerchief of lace of a dead, bluish
+white, a striking note of harmonious contrast.
+
+Have not all the rhymesters of the period sung the praises of her eyes?
+What shall the poor chronicler add to these poetical effusions, save
+that Ursula's eyes were as changeable in colour as were her moods, her
+spirits, the expression of her face, and the inflexions of her voice.
+
+And then there was the proud little toss of the head, that contemptuous
+curl of the lip which rendered her more desirable than any of her more
+yielding companions.
+
+Indeed, Don Miguel felt in luck. His arm was still round her waist. He
+felt the young figure stiffen beneath his admiring glances.
+
+The fair one was half mad with rage, and quite adorable in her wrath.
+
+"My lord Marquis, this is an outrage!" she said at last, "and here in
+England----"
+
+"Nay, fair one," rejoined the Spaniard with a slight accent of irony,
+"even in England, when two ladies, masked and alone, are held prisoners
+at nightfall, and in a public place, by their ardent adorers, they must
+needs pay ransom for their release. What say you, my lord?" he added,
+turning gaily to where his friend held pretty Margaret a not too
+unwilling prisoner.
+
+"'Tis but justice," assented Lord Everingham, "and yours the first
+prize, Marquis. Fair one," he said, looking down into Margaret's shyly
+terrified eyes, "wilt pay toll to me the while?"
+
+"Gentlemen!" proudly protested Lady Ursula, "an there's any honour in
+you----"
+
+"Nay! honour lies in snatching a kiss from those sweet lips," rejoined
+Don Miguel with a graceful flourish of his plumed hat.
+
+This act of gallantry, however, almost cost him the price of his
+victory. Ursula Glynde, born and bred in the country, was the daughter
+of a sturdy Cornish nobleman. Accustomed to ride untamed foals, to have
+bouts at the broadsword or the poniard with the best man in the county,
+she would not yield a kiss or own herself vanquished quite as readily as
+the Spaniard seemed to expect.
+
+With a vigorous jerk of the body she had once more freed herself from
+the Marquis's grasp, and running up to Margaret, she snatched her by the
+hand and dragged her away from Lord Everingham, readjusting her hood and
+mask as she flew towards the booth, vaguely hoping for shelter behind
+the folds of the tent.
+
+But once more fate interposed relentlessly betwixt her and her attempts
+at escape. Two gallants, seeing the episode, eager to have a hand in the
+adventure, friends no doubt too of Don Miguel and Everingham, laughingly
+barred the way to the steps, just as the two girls had contrived to
+reach them. With a cry of disappointment Ursula, still dragging Margaret
+after her, tried to double back. But it was too late. Don Miguel and
+Lord Everingham were waiting for them on the other side. They were two
+to one now, and all chances of escape had hopelessly vanished.
+
+Never had Ursula Glynde felt so mortified in her life.
+
+"Many thanks, gentlemen, for this timely interference," came in mocking
+accents from that odious Spaniard. "The ransom, sweet one," he added, as
+the chase 'twixt gallants and maids became more general, and the girls
+at last felt themselves quite helpless and surrounded.
+
+Ursula's pride alone prevented her from bursting into tears.
+
+"By my faith! here is strange sport!" said a pleasant, slightly mocking
+voice suddenly. "What say you, Harry Plantagenet? A lively sight . . .
+what? . . . four gallants frightening two ladies!"
+
+Instinctively every one had turned in the direction whence the voice had
+come. A man was standing some dozen yards away with mantle tightly drawn
+round him, his tall figure stooping to pat and fondle a powerful-looking
+boarhound, which clung closely to his side.
+
+He had spoken very quietly, apparently to the dog, whose great ears he
+was gently stroking.
+
+Without taking any further heed of the somewhat discomfited gentlemen,
+he came forward towards the little group.
+
+"Ladies, your way stands clear," he said, with that same pleasant irony
+still apparent in his voice, and without casting more than a cursory
+glance at the close hoods and dark masks, which was all that he could
+see of the ladies, whom he had so incontinently saved from an unpleasant
+position.
+
+"Sir," murmured Ursula, under her breath and without attempting to
+move, for she felt as if her knees would give way under her.
+
+"Nay, Madam," rejoined the newcomer lightly, "if my interference has
+angered you, I pray you forgive me and I'll withdraw, as these gentlemen
+here obviously desire me to do. But an you really wish to escape, my
+friend here will assure you that you can do so unmolested. . . . Eh,
+Harry? what say you?" he added, once more turning his attention to the
+dog.
+
+The boarhound, as if conscious of this appeal to his chivalry, turned a
+knowing eye on the two girls.
+
+The four men had been taken so absolutely unawares that during the few
+seconds while this brief colloquy took place they had scarcely realised
+that an interfering and unknown stranger was trying to hamper them in
+their amusements.
+
+They had remained quite speechless, more astonished at the newcomer's
+impertinence than wrathful at the interruption; and when the next
+instant Ursula and Margaret suddenly fled with unaffected precipitancy,
+no one attempted to stop them.
+
+Harry Plantagenet's intelligent eyes followed the retreating figures
+until they were out of sight. Then he yawned with obtrusive incivility,
+and plainly showed his master that the present company no longer
+interested him.
+
+"Well, Harry, old man, shall we go?" said the stranger, calmly turning
+on his heel.
+
+But at this final piece of cool insolence Don Miguel de Suarez at last
+recovered from his astonishment. This tame ending to an unwarrantable
+intrusion was certainly not to his liking, and he, for one, was
+unaccustomed to see his whims or caprices thwarted.
+
+In these days tempers ran high, hot blood was allowed free rein, and at
+a word or a smile out of place, swords and poniards were soon out of
+their sheaths and friendships of yesterday changed to deadly antagonism
+in the space of a few minutes.
+
+"Carramba!" swore the young Spaniard, "this passes belief. What say you,
+gentlemen?"
+
+And, drawing his long, tapering sword, he barred the way threateningly
+to the stranger.
+
+The silence, thus broken, seemed to restore at once to the other three
+gallants the full measure of their wrath. One and all following Don
+Miguel's example, had put their hands to their sword-hilts.
+
+"Aye! unmask, stranger," said Lord Everingham peremptorily.
+
+"Unmask! unmask!" came in threatening accents from all.
+
+"Unmask, or . . ."
+
+"Or by our Lady!" rejoined the stranger lightly, "you'll all run your
+blades into my silken doublet and thus end pleasantly a chivalrous
+escapade. Eh?"
+
+One could divine the pleasant, ironical smile lurking behind the thick
+curtain of the mask. The Spaniard's blood was boiling with vexation.
+Harry Plantagenet gave an impatient whine.
+
+"Your name, stranger, first," commanded Don Miguel haughtily, "then your
+sword if you are not a coward; after that I and these gentlemen will
+deal with your impudence if you have any left."
+
+There was a moment's silence; the stranger whistled to his dog.
+
+"My sword is at your command," he said; "mine impudence you shall deal
+with as you list. . . . My name is Wessex!" he added with a sudden
+hauteur which seemed to tower above Don Miguel as the gigantic oak of
+the glen towers above the bustling willow beneath.
+
+And he removed the mask from his face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+HIS GRACE OF WESSEX
+
+
+There are several portraits extant of Robert d'Esclade, fifth Duke of
+Wessex, notably the one by Antonio Moro in the Pitti Gallery at
+Florence.
+
+But in the somewhat stiff portraiture of that epoch it is perhaps a
+little difficult to trace the real image, the inner individuality of one
+of the most interesting personalities at the Court of Mary Tudor.
+
+There is, however, a miniature of him, attributed to Holbein, and
+certainly drawn by the hand of a great master, which renders with
+greater truth and loving accuracy the peculiar charm made up of
+half-indolent nonchalance, gracious condescension, and haughty reserve
+which characterized the Duke of Wessex.
+
+So justly styled His Grace!
+
+The reserve was so little apparent. The hauteur only came to the surface
+in response to unwelcome familiarity. But the debonair indolence was
+always there, the lazy droop of the lids, the nonchalant shrug of the
+shoulders, when grave matters were discussed, and also that obvious
+fastidiousness--a love of everything that was beautiful, from a fine
+horse, down to a piece of delicate lace--which annoyed the more
+sedate-minded courtiers of the Queen.
+
+And with it all that wonderful virility and vigour, that joy of life and
+delight in gaiety and laughter which lent to the grave face at times a
+spark of almost boyish exuberance; that mad, merry, proud insouciance,
+which throughout his life made him meet every danger--aye! every sorrow
+and disgrace--with the same bright smile on his lips.
+
+Scheyfne, in his letters to the emperor, Charles V, says of the Duke of
+Wessex that he was insufferably conceited--"il est tres orgueilleux de
+sa beaute personelle, laquelle certes est plus que mediocre."
+
+Noailles, too, speaks of him as "moult fatueux et vaniteux de sa
+personne."
+
+But it was hardly likely that these foreign delegates, each bent upon
+their own schemes, would look with favour upon His Grace. His only merit
+in their eyes was that same characteristic indolence of his, which
+caused a man of his great wealth and boundless influence to abstain from
+politics.
+
+Certes no one could accuse him of intriguing for his own political
+advancement. Mary Tudor's own avowed penchant for him was so well known,
+that he had but to say the word and the crown of England would be his,
+to share with the Queen.
+
+Yet since the death of Edward VI he had not been seen at Court. Small
+wonder, therefore, that at sight of the Duke all four men seemed amazed.
+
+"His Grace of Wessex!" they ejaculated in one breath.
+
+But already Lord Everingham had put up his sword and gone to Wessex with
+hands outstretched.
+
+"Wessex!" he said with unmistakable delight. "By Our Lady, this is a
+joyful surprise!"
+
+The other two Englishmen also shook the Duke warmly by the hand.
+
+"I did not know you were in England, my lord," said the one.
+
+"Right glad are we to welcome you back," added the other.
+
+"Well, Harry, my friend," quoth the Duke gaily, "methinks you and I are
+not to be spiked after all."
+
+Harry Plantagenet, however, was looking doubtfully at the young
+Spaniard, who had remained somewhat in the background, regarding the
+first effusions of his friends with a certain ill-concealed impatience.
+With almost human intelligence the dog seemed to understand that here
+was a person who was inimical to his master, and in his faithful eyes
+there came that unmistakable furtive look and blink, with which dogs
+invariably show their mistrust and dislike.
+
+But Don Miguel de Suarez was above all a diplomatist. Capricious and
+fond of adventure, not over-scrupulous as to the choice of his
+pleasures, yet he never allowed his dearest whim to interfere with
+political necessities.
+
+A few seconds' quick reflection soon made it dear to him that a quarrel
+with the Duke of Wessex would, at this juncture, greatly endanger his
+own popularity at the English Court, and thereby minimize his chances of
+carrying through the negotiations entrusted to him by King Philip of
+Spain.
+
+Under the leadership of His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno he certainly
+hoped to bring about the marriage of Philip with the Queen of England.
+
+He knew perfectly well that he and his eminent colleague were opposed in
+this design by the entire ultra-English faction here, and also that this
+faction was composed of practically the whole of the nobility and
+chivalry of the realm.
+
+The Duke of Wessex was the pride and hope of this party, for Courtenay,
+weak and effeminate, had lost all his partisans. What more natural than
+that the most distinguished, most brilliant of Queen Mary's subjects
+should share her throne with her?
+
+All this and more passed swiftly through Don Miguel's active brain.
+Therefore, as soon as there was a lull in the joyful welcome accorded
+to the Duke by his friends, he too stepped forward, having with vigorous
+self-will curbed his unruly temper and forced his full, sensuous lips to
+a smile. He had realized the expediency of, at any rate, outward
+amiability.
+
+"A great name, my lord," he said, bowing with grave ceremony to Wessex,
+"and one familiar to me already, though I have not yet been honoured by
+seeing you at Court."
+
+The Duke eyed him for the space of two brief seconds, whilst just the
+faintest touch of superciliousness seemed to be lurking somewhere at the
+back of his neck. But he returned the Spaniard's bow with equal
+ceremony. Then he placed his hand on the head of his dog.
+
+"Nay, sir," he said, "my friend here bears a prouder name than mine.
+Harry Plantagenet, make your bow to the envoy of His Most Catholic
+Majesty. I call him Plantagenet, sir, after our King Harry V, who drove
+back the French at Agincourt. Nay, your pardon; this scarce interests
+you. You were not born then, and Spain was not yet a kingdom."
+
+He spoke lightly, and none but Everingham's devoted ears caught the
+slight tone of impertinence which underlay the bland, seemingly empty
+speech.
+
+Don Miguel himself was determined to keep urbane.
+
+"A beautiful creature, indeed," he said suavely; "but you, milor Duke,
+do you return to Hampton Court with us this night?"
+
+"Oh!" replied Wessex, "among so many brilliant diplomatists from Spain
+there's scarce room for a mere idler like myself."
+
+"Yet we diplomatists are hoping to pit our poor wits against Your
+Grace's," added Don Miguel pointedly.
+
+"Against those of my friends perhaps, my lord," rejoined the Duke drily.
+"Mine own are incorrigibly idle."
+
+Don Miguel, as was his wont, did not pursue the subject any further. He
+was trying to read the refined, distinctly haughty countenance, which
+was smiling down at him so pleasantly just now, and taking mental stock
+of this antagonist, whom rumour had described to him and to his chief as
+the only serious obstacle to the proposed Spanish alliance.
+
+He saw before him a man in the full pride of youth and manhood, tall and
+well knit, and wearing with easy grace the elaborate slashes and puffs,
+trunks and silk hose, which present fashion had decreed.
+
+The Spaniard's keen and critical eye took in every detail of this
+interesting personality: the short, light brown hair worn close to the
+head, the fair moustache and delicately refined hands, the richness of
+the doublet, the priceless value of the lace at throat and wrist.
+
+"A fop and an idler!" he murmured mentally.
+
+Then he thought of the Queen of England. No longer young, with but
+little taste in ornament and dress, and certes quite unversed in all
+those wiles, which might have drawn this brilliant butterfly into her
+net.
+
+The Spaniard longed to see these two together. The presence of this
+formidable adversary gave additional zest to the game he was playing on
+the political chess-board.
+
+An unwilling courtier! A love-sick Queen! Carramba! it was interesting.
+
+"When do you return to the Palace, my lord?" Everingham was asking of
+the Duke.
+
+"To-night," replied the latter, "by our gracious Liege Lady's own
+command."
+
+"To-night then?"
+
+"Without fail. Harry Plantagenet and I will present our humble respects
+to Her Majesty."
+
+"'Tis au revoir then, Your Grace," quoth Don Miguel. "We meet again
+to-night."
+
+"At your service, my lord Marquis."
+
+Still smiling amicably the Spaniard took his leave, soon followed by two
+of his companions. Lord Everingham too was about to depart, but he felt
+Wessex' detaining hand on his arm.
+
+"That unpleasant-looking Spaniard? . . ." queried the Duke.
+
+"Don Miguel, Marquis de Suarez," replied Everingham, "envoy of His
+Majesty, the King of Spain."
+
+"Aye, I knew all that. I was merely reflecting that if he happen to be a
+specimen of our Liege Lady's Court, meseems I were a fool to go back to
+it."
+
+"Come back to it with me now," urged his friend earnestly.
+
+"Not till to-night. Do not grudge me these few last hours of freedom. By
+Our Lady! I meant to consult the famous witch, like a sober burgher out
+on a holiday. But in the name of all the saints in the calendar let us
+forget there are such things as Spaniards at the English Court just
+now."
+
+He laughed, a half weary, wholly pleasant laugh, as, followed by his
+dog, he led his friend in the opposite direction to that in which Don
+Miguel had rapidly walked away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+SILKEN BONDS
+
+
+Wessex and Everingham had readjusted their masks and wrapped their
+cloaks around them, ere they once more mingled with the crowd which
+still thronged around the gaily decked booths.
+
+The evening now was rapidly drawing in. Hampton Court, in the
+fast-gathering haze beyond, looked grey and ghostlike, with brightly
+illumined windows beginning to gleam here and there.
+
+With an impatient frown, Wessex deliberately turned his back on the
+gorgeous pile: it represented boredom to him, politics and dullness, and
+he loved gaiety, sunshine, and laughter, these merry-makers here, the
+pretty country wenches with their bare arms and neat ankles showing
+beneath their brightly coloured robes.
+
+Everingham was silent as he followed his friend through the crowd. But
+Wessex' laugh was always infectious, and he seemed in a merry mood
+to-night. Harry Plantagenet alone seemed morose; he disapproved of all
+these country louts, who were over free with their caresses. He kept
+close to his master's heel, and only gave an occasional growl, when some
+impudent 'prentice dared to come too nigh.
+
+"Well, Harry, old friend," said the Duke after a while, "shall we go and
+consult the witch, or wait until the stars are out? Friend Everingham
+here is none too good company to-night, eh? In thine ear, proud
+Plantagenet, he hath designs on our freedom. But the soothsayer shall
+cast our horoscope, and look into our future, see if you are to become
+chief lapdog to the Queen of England, or if we are both of us to fall in
+bondage to the mistress plighted to us by an uncomfortable old
+gentleman, who had not consulted us in the matter. 'Sdeath man," he
+added, suddenly looking straight into Everingham's serious face, "why do
+you look so grave? Tell me, pending that witch's starlit lies, what's
+your best news?"
+
+"By my faith!" responded Everingham simply, "the best news is Your
+Grace's return. 'Twas an ill wind that wafted you away from Court."
+
+"Aye! 'twas the wind of infinite boredom wafted my Grace away," replied
+the Duke with a smile. "Confess, friend, that the Court cannot be
+alluring with the Queen telling her beads, the foreign ambassadors
+ruling England, the Privy Council at loggerheads, the people grumbling,
+and the ladies yawning. Brrr!"
+
+He gave a mock shiver, and seemed not to notice the quick look of
+reproach cast at him by his friend.
+
+"And out of sheer boredom," quoth Everingham with a sigh of deep
+disappointment, "you piqued the Queen of England."
+
+Wessex did not reply at once. At Everingham's tone of rebuke a slight
+frown had contracted his forehead, and that certain look of hauteur,
+never wholly absent from his face, at once became more apparent.
+
+There was more than mere camaraderie between these two men: unity of
+thought, similarity of tastes and education, a great and overwhelming
+love for their own country, together with mutual understanding and
+appreciation, had long ago knit the ties of friendship closely between
+them. It was generally admitted by every one that Lord Everingham might
+venture on a ground of familiarity with His Grace which no one else
+quite dared to tread.
+
+This time too, after that instant's hesitation, the reserve which every
+now and then seemed entirely to detach the Duke of Wessex from his
+surroundings, quickly disappeared again. The pleasant smile returned to
+the proud lips, he shrugged his shoulders and said simply--
+
+"Is the Queen of England piqued?"
+
+"Can you ask?" rejoined the other with increased vehemence.
+
+Then he checked himself abruptly, feeling no doubt how useless it was to
+discuss such matters seriously just now.
+
+"The only woman," he added, falling in once more with his friend's
+lighter mood, "the only woman whose blandishments His Grace of Wessex
+has ever been known to resist."
+
+"And that with difficulty," concluded the Duke gaily. "But you see,
+friend," he added with mock gravity, "with a Tudor you never can tell;
+you might lose your heart one day and your head the next."
+
+"Mary Tudor loves you too well . . ." protested Lord Everingham.
+
+"She is the daughter of King Harry VIII, remember, and would threaten me
+with the block or the rack at every indiscretion."
+
+He paused, then added quaintly--
+
+"And I would commit so many."
+
+"A woman who loves always forgives," urged his friend.
+
+"A woman, my good Everingham, will forgive a grave infidelity--perhaps!
+but not a number of little indiscretions. Mine," he added with a light
+sigh, "would be the little indiscretions."
+
+"And while you fled from Court the Queen of England has almost promised
+to wed the Spanish king," said Everingham bitterly.
+
+He watched his friend keenly as he spoke and paused a moment before he
+added pointedly--
+
+"'Twill be a proud day for the peers of England when they bow the knee
+to their Liege Lord, a foreign king."
+
+Wessex shrugged his broad shoulders and turned to where a pretty wench,
+dispensing ale to a scarlet-cloaked burgher, formed a picture pleasing
+to his artistic eye.
+
+Everingham, somewhat proud of his own diplomatic skill, had noted,
+however, a certain stiffening of His Grace's figure at the vision which
+had been conjured before him.
+
+That of a Wessex bending the knee before a Spaniard.
+
+"You were away," continued Everingham, eager to goad his friend into
+speech, "and my Lord Cardinal and Don Miguel know how to blow upon the
+flames of Mary's jealousy. Your influence can still save England, my
+lord," he added with great earnestness, "let not your enemies say that
+fear of a woman keeps you from exerting it."
+
+"H'm! do they say that?" mused Wessex quaintly, whilst a smile, which
+almost might be called boyish, altered the whole expression of his
+serious face. "By my faith! but they are right. One's enemies usually
+are."
+
+He drew his friend away from the immediate vicinity of a jabbering
+crowd, into a dark corner formed by one of the booths. Everingham,
+thinking that at last he had led Wessex into a graver train of thought,
+failed to notice the humorous twinkle of the eyes which had so palpably
+struggled to the surface.
+
+"It is the fear of a woman has kept me away from Court," he whispered
+solemnly, "but that woman is not the Queen of England."
+
+"Who is it then?"
+
+"In your ear, friend . . . 'tis the Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+Everingham could scarce suppress a movement of intense satisfaction.
+Lady Ursula! beautiful, exquisite Lady Ursula was the one
+stumbling-block on which the schemes of his faction might become
+hopelessly shattered.
+
+Wessex was nominally plighted to the lady. True, 'twas an engagement
+undertaken by the lady's own father, without the consent of the parties
+chiefly concerned. But in Tudor England there was a curious adherence to
+such solemnly plighted troths, which might have proved a bar to the
+Duke's sense of absolute freedom.
+
+If, however, he looked upon this unnatural and monstrous pledge with the
+lightness which it fully deserved, if he considered himself at liberty
+to break the imaginary bonds which held him to Lady Ursula, then the
+work of his partisans would become comparatively easy.
+
+They had always hoped and fully intended to overcome His Grace's
+scruples in the matter, and fondly thought that they would succeed. But
+since the Duke himself looked indifferently upon this so-called troth,
+why, Everingham himself was the first to feel the keenest satisfaction
+at the thought.
+
+"You dislike the lady then?" he asked with unfeigned delight.
+
+"I have never seen her," retorted Wessex placidly. "At any rate, not
+since she was in her cradle. I certainly didn't like her then."
+
+"She is very beautiful," remarked Everingham, with a somewhat shamefaced
+recollection of his previous adventure, "but----"
+
+"She might be a veritable angel, yet she would frighten me."
+
+A mock shudder passed through his tall, athletic frame, and taking his
+friend's arm in his, he whispered confidentially, "Think of it, my lord!
+A woman whom duty _compels_ one to love--Brrr!--Her own father plighted
+our troth; I am left comparatively free, yet if I do not wed Lady
+Ursula, she is doomed to end her days in a convent. . . . A matter of
+honour--what? . . . Yet I--I, who could love any woman," he added
+emphatically, "be she queen or peasant--that is--h'm!--if I were really
+put to it--find the very thought of my promised bride abhorrent. She is
+the one woman in all the world whom I could never love--never! . . . I
+know it! So I ran away from Court, not because I feared one woman loved
+me too much, but because I knew I should love one woman too little."
+
+He had spoken so light-heartedly, so gaily, that in spite of the grave
+issues at stake Everingham could not help but laugh.
+
+"Nay! perhaps you exaggerate the danger," he said. "The Lady Ursula
+might prefer the convent to being a duchess. She has never seen Your
+Grace, she is rich and high-born, she may be pious----"
+
+"Or perverse," responded Wessex. "I've never met a woman yet who didn't
+want--badly--the thing she mightn't get."
+
+"Is England then a woman," queried Everingham with renewed earnestness,
+"since she wants Wessex?"
+
+But the Duke was not prepared to follow his friend to-night into
+sentimental, ultra-patriotic bypaths. He was not altogether inclined to
+sacrifice his liberty for the sake of ousting the Spanish king from his
+proposed English throne.
+
+Nevertheless he rejoined more gravely than was his wont.
+
+"Does England really want me?" he said with gentle irony. "Nay!" he
+added, restraining with one hand Everingham's exuberant protests, "I
+know! I know! you all think so, and that I am an unhallowed idler,
+letting my country drift into the arms of the foreigner. Do not deny it,
+friend. . . . Perhaps I am. . . . Nay! we'll say, indeed I am. . . .
+There! there! calm your fears. Have I not told you that Her Majesty hath
+commanded my presence at Court? We'll set our poor wits to oust Spanish
+diplomacy, and I must trust my luckiest star to inspire in the Lady
+Ursula a wholesome desire for the convent; for I tell thee, friend, that
+if she holds me to my silken bonds, I will at once repair to the
+outermost corner of the earth and thence drop into vacancy, or take
+flight to the blue dome of heaven above."
+
+"God protect Your Grace," rejoined Everingham with grave solemnity. "Ah!
+I fear no Spanish influence now," he added enthusiastically. "You'll
+save England, my lord, and the gratitude of the nation will be at your
+feet."
+
+Wessex smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and without further allusion to
+more serious subjects the two men mingled once more among the crowd.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE VEILED WITCH
+
+
+Outside the witch's tent all was silent and deserted. Darkness had
+gradually crept in, and with it--as far as the rest of the Fair was
+concerned--additional noise and exuberant gaiety.
+
+Huge torches of gum and resin flickered at the entrance of every booth,
+throwing quaint red lights, and deep, mysterious shadows all round,
+distorting the faces of the gaping multitude, and of the criers, until
+they looked like fantastic figures, wizards all from some neighbouring
+Brocken.
+
+Whether the world-famous necromancer, Mirrab, and her attendant genii
+were lacking in business or no, no one could say, for there was no torch
+outside their tent, and Abra had ceased to lure the passer-by. The open
+place in front of the platform was dark and still.
+
+Suddenly from out the shadows something seemed to move forward, whilst a
+mysterious "Hist! hist!" came echoing from more than one direction.
+
+Gradually the sound became more distinct, dark figures emerged from
+every side, and presently a compact group of moving, whispering people
+congregated some few yards away from the booth. Then a voice, still low
+and muffled, but firm and emphatic, detached itself from the ghostlike
+murmur around.
+
+"My masters, I call upon you to witness! . . . The Scriptures say, 'Let
+no witch live.' . . . Shall we disobey the Scriptures and allow that
+witch to live? . . . She is possessed, and the devil dwells in that
+booth."
+
+Groans and threatening curses greeted this peroration. The speaker
+raised his voice somewhat.
+
+"Will you allow Satan to remain amongst you?"
+
+"No! no! no!" came in excited accents from the little crowd.
+
+"And I say death to the witch!" added the leading voice solemnly.
+
+"Death to the witch!" came in weird echoes from all around.
+
+Then there was silence. The dark heads bent closer together.
+
+"What wilt thou do, Matthew?" whispered one voice with awed timidity.
+
+"Let her burn, I say," replied the learned village oracle; "'tis the
+only way of getting rid of Satan."
+
+It had been a hot day. The heads of this pack of country folk had been
+overheated with sack and spiced ale; an unreasoning, maniacal terror,
+with superstition for its basis, had completed the work of completely
+addling their loutish brains. All day there had been talk of this veiled
+witch, these strange spirits and weird monsters which she was reputed to
+conjure up at will. Thoughts of poisoned wells, of sweating sickness, of
+hell-fire raged through these poor misguided fellows' minds.
+
+What did they know of charlatanism or trickery? To them it was all real,
+living, awesome, terrible. The devil was a person with glowing eyes, two
+horns, and a forked tail, who caused innocent people to fall flat on
+their backs and foam at the mouth.
+
+Every malady then unknown to science was ascribed to hellish agency. And
+here, within a few yards, was an unearthly creature who actually
+consorted with the creator of all evil, who wilfully brought him up from
+his burning abode below the earth, and let him loose upon this peaceful
+village and its God-fearing inhabitants.
+
+"Nay! burn her! burn her!" they shouted, brandishing their sticks,
+emboldened through their very cowardice into deeds they would otherwise
+never have contemplated without a shudder.
+
+And they shouted in order to keep up their exaltation and their
+excitement; the devil is known to favour whisperings.
+
+"After me, my masters," continued Matthew, who was still the leader of
+this insane band of mischievous fools, "after me. Remember there's
+salvation for our sins if we burn the witch."
+
+With another wild shout the little crowd made a rush for the platform of
+the booth, just as Abra and his henchman, attracted by the strangeness
+of the noise, came out of the tent to see what might be amiss.
+
+Before they had time to utter a sound of protest the two men were seized
+by the crowd and dragged down the steps with violence. The people had no
+time to trouble about a lout such as he. They wanted the witch herself,
+now, at once, while their blood was up and boiling; and the guard might
+come round at any moment and frustrate them in their will.
+
+"Out of the way, lout! out of the way! or thou'lt burn alongside of thy
+damned witch!"
+
+Abra had fallen on his knees, understanding only too well the danger
+which was threatening him. He had known all along what terrible risks he
+was taking. 'Twas not well in these days to tamper with the
+supernatural. But he had trusted to the good temper of holiday-makers,
+whilst the certain patronage of rich burghers and Court gallants had
+proved an overwhelming temptation to his greed of gain. For the wench he
+cared but little. He had picked her out of the gutter one day, a
+starving little slut, and had used her as a tool--a willing one
+enough--for his own pecuniary ends.
+
+Even now, with a cursing throng of maniacs round him, he only thought of
+his own safety. Mean, abject, and cowardly, he fell upon his knees.
+
+"Merciful heavens, my masters," he pleaded.
+
+But the crowd was not in a humour to listen. The men kicked him on one
+side, and he fell up against his miserable companion, who was too
+terror-stricken to move.
+
+Then there was another rush up to the platform. Without thought or
+pause, for these would have been fatal to the resolute purpose in view,
+and might give the devil time to look after his own.
+
+From within the tent there came now a frantic shriek of terror. The next
+moment, the foremost among the crowd had pushed aside the gaudy
+draperies, and that one shriek was answered by a dozen awesome,
+horrified curses.
+
+There was the witch at last. A poor trembling girl, scarce out of her
+teens, with beautiful, delicate features, and an abundance of golden
+hair falling round her shoulders; her mysterious veil--a bit of showy
+tinsel--lying in a heap on the floor. Nothing supernatural or devilish
+about her, surely. Quaint, perhaps, because of that singular beauty of
+face and skin which seemed so ill-assorted with the sordidness of her
+surroundings. One of Nature's curious freaks, this kitchen wench with a
+head which would have graced a duchess, her interesting personality
+merely the prey of a common charlatan, who used her for vulgar,
+senseless trickery.
+
+For the moment her beauty was distorted through the dawning of an awful
+terror. To a sane man she would only have seemed a wretched, miserable,
+frightened woman. But not so to the ale-sodden, overheated minds of
+these excited creatures, blinded by an almost maniacal fear.
+
+To them she looked supernaturally tall, supernaturally weird, with great
+glowing eyes and tongues of flame illumining her person.
+
+"The witch!" they shouted, "the witch! the witch!"
+
+"What do you want with me?" murmured the poor girl.
+
+Egged on by their passions they smothered their terror. They seized her
+violently by the wrists and dragged her out of her lair and on to the
+platform, where the rest of the crowd were pressing.
+
+A shout of exultation, of hellish triumph, greeted the appearance of the
+wretched woman. Not a spark of pity was aroused by her helplessness, her
+obvious, abject terror.
+
+"The witch! the witch! death to the witch!"
+
+They seemed to be fanning their own passions, adding fuel to the flames
+of their insensate wrath.
+
+There was the source of all the evil which might have befallen the
+peaceful valley of the Thames! the creature with the evil eye, the
+dispenser of misery and death!
+
+They had forgotten the guard now. Their lawlessness knew no bounds. But
+for the incessant din of the merry-makers at the Fair, the banging of
+the drums, and the shouts of the criers, their own yells of execration,
+their violent curses, and the shrieks of the captive girl could not have
+failed to attract attention.
+
+But every one was busy laughing and enjoying the last hours of this
+happy day. No one came to interfere in this devilish work which was
+about to be consummated.
+
+And every word the poor woman uttered but brought further vituperation
+upon her.
+
+She shouted, "Help!"
+
+"Hark, my masters," sneered Matthew loftily, "she calls to Satan for
+help."
+
+"What will you do with me?" she pleaded. "I've done you no wrong."
+
+"Thou hast brought the devil in our midst."
+
+"No! no!"
+
+"I saw thee riding on a broomstick--going to thy Sabbath revels."
+
+"'Tis false!"
+
+"Tie her to the pole--quick!"
+
+The so-called witch, the friend of Satan and of all the powers of
+darkness, fell upon her knees in an agony of the wildest despair.
+Realizing her position, the terrible doom which was awaiting her, her
+whole figure seemed to writhe with the agony of her horror. She dragged
+herself to Matthew's knees--he seemed to be leading the others--she
+wrenched her arms free from those who held her and threw them round him.
+She forced her voice to gentleness and pleading, tried to appeal to what
+was a stone wall of unconquerable prejudice.
+
+"Sirs, kind sirs," she entreated, "you would not harm a poor girl who
+had done you no wrong? . . . you won't harm me--you won't. . . . Oh,
+God!" she shrieked in her frenzy, "you wouldn't--you wouldn't--Holy
+Virgin, protect me----"
+
+A rough hand was placed over her mouth and her last yells were smothered
+as she was ruthlessly dragged away.
+
+Then with two or three leather belts she was securely tied to the
+flagstaff, whilst a thick woollen scarf was wound round her face and
+neck, leaving only the eyes free to roam wildly on the awful scene
+around.
+
+Awful indeed!
+
+Man turned to savage beast in the frenzy of his own fear.
+
+Swift and silent, like so many rodents in the night, the men began
+collecting bits of wood, broke up their sticks into small pieces, tore
+branches down from the old elm tree.
+
+Matthew the while, still the ringleader of this dastardly crew, was
+directing these gruesome operations.
+
+"Hist!" he admonished incessantly, "not so much noise. . . . We don't
+want the guard to come this way, do we? . . . Now, John the smith,
+quick, where's thy resin? . . . James the wheelwright, thy tinder,
+friend. . . . Here! these faggots are not close enough. . . . Some more
+on the left there!"
+
+And the men, as alert as their clumsy bodies would allow, as quick as
+the darkness would permit, groaning, sweating, falling up against one
+another, worked with a will to accomplish the end which they had in
+view.
+
+To burn the witch!
+
+And she, the woman, her poor wits almost gone at sight of this fast
+approaching, inevitable doom, did not attempt to struggle. Had the gag
+been removed from her mouth she would not have uttered a sound.
+
+Nature, more merciful than her own children, had paralysed the brain of
+the wretched girl and left her semi-imbecile, crazed, watching now with
+uncomprehending eyes the preparations for her own appalling death.
+
+"Watch how the witch will burn!" said Matthew in a hoarse whisper. "Her
+soul will fly out of her mouth, and it'll be shaped like a black cat."
+
+They had all descended the steps and were standing in a semicircle on
+the turf below, looking up at the miserable holocaust which they were
+about to offer up to their own cowardly superstition.
+
+James the wheelwright was busy with his tinder, with John the smith
+bending over him, ready with a resin torch, which would start the
+conflagration.
+
+And Mirrab, looking down on them with lack-lustre, idiotic eyes! Her
+body had fallen in a strange, shapeless heap across the leather bonds
+which held her, her feet were buried in the pile of faggots, whilst her
+fingers worked convulsively behind the flagstaff to which they were
+tied.
+
+Ye gods, what a spectacle!
+
+The Duke of Wessex, having taken leave of his friend, had been idly
+strolling towards the witch's booth, always closely followed by faithful
+Harry Plantagenet. At first sight of a group of men dimly outlined in
+the darkness he scarcely realized what was happening.
+
+The fitful flicker of the torch, as the resin became ignited, threw the
+more distant figure of the woman into complete gloom.
+
+Then there was a sudden shout of triumph. The torch was blazing at last.
+
+"The holy fire! . . . Burn the witch!"
+
+John the smith, holding the torch aloft, inspired by the enthusiasm of
+his friends, had turned towards the steps.
+
+For the space of one second the red glow illumined that helpless bundle
+of gaudy tinsel only dimly suggesting a woman's form beneath it, which
+hung limply from the flagstaff.
+
+Then Wessex understood.
+
+He had already drawn nigh, attracted by idle curiosity, but now with one
+bound he reached the steps. Striking out with his fists at two or three
+men who barred the way, he suddenly stood confronting these miscreants,
+the light of the torch glowing on the rich silk of his doublet, the
+jewelled agraffe of his hat, his proud, serious face almost distorted by
+overwhelming wrath.
+
+"What damnable piece of mischief is this?" he said peremptorily.
+
+He had scarcely raised his voice, for they were all silent, having
+retreated somewhat at sight of this stranger who barred the way.
+
+The instinct of submission and deference to the lord was inborn in the
+country lout of these days. Their first movement was one of respectful
+awe. But this was only momentary. The excitement was too great, too
+real, to give way to this gallant, alone with only an elegant sword to
+stand between him and the mad desire for the witch's death.
+
+"Out of the way, stranger!" shouted Matthew lustily from the rear of the
+group, "this is no place for fine gentlemen. Up with thy torch, John the
+smith! No one interferes here!"
+
+"No! no! forward, John the smith!" exclaimed the others as with one
+voice.
+
+But John the smith, torch in hand, could not very well advance. The fine
+gentleman was standing on the steps above him with a long pointed sword
+in his hand.
+
+"The first one of you who sets foot on these steps is a dead man," he
+had said as soon as the shouts had subsided.
+
+John the smith did not altogether care to be that notable first.
+
+"Here! Harry, old friend," added the Duke, calling his dog to his side,
+"you see these miscreants there, when I say 'Go!' you have my permission
+to spring at the throat of the man who happens to be on these steps at
+the time."
+
+Harry Plantagenet no doubt understood what was expected of him. His
+great jaws were slightly open, showing a powerful set of very
+unpleasant-looking teeth; otherwise for the moment he looked placid
+enough. He stood at the very top of the steps, his head on a level with
+his master's shoulder, and was wagging his tail in a pleasant, friendly
+spirit.
+
+Matthew, however, had, not unjustly up to now, earned the respect of his
+friends. Whilst John the smith was still hesitating, he had already made
+a quick mental calculation that one Court gallant and his dog could be
+no real match against five-and-twenty lusty fellows with hard fists, who
+were determined to get their own way.
+
+He elbowed his way to the front, pushed the smith aside, and began
+peremptorily--
+
+"Stranger!----"
+
+"Call me not stranger, dolt, I am the Duke of Wessex, and if thou dost
+not immediately betake thyself elsewhere, I'll have thee whipped till
+thou bleed. Now then, ye louts!" he added, addressing the now paralysed
+group of men, "off with your caps in my presence--quick's the word!"
+
+There was dead silence, broken only by an occasional groan of real,
+tangible fright.
+
+"The Duke of Wessex! Merciful heavens! he'll have us all hanged!"
+murmured Matthew as he fell on his knees.
+
+One by one, still in complete silence, the caps were doffed. His Grace
+of Wessex! Future King of England mayhap! And they had dared to threaten
+him!
+
+"Holy Virgin protect the lot of us!"
+
+One man, more alert than his fellows, well in the rear of the group,
+began crawling away on hands and knees, hoping to escape unobserved. One
+or two saw his intention and immediately followed him. John the smith
+had already dropped his torch, which lay smouldering on the ground.
+
+There was a distinct movement in the direction of general retreat.
+
+"Well," laughed the Duke good-naturedly, "have you done enough mischief?
+. . . Get ye gone, all of you!--or shall I have to call the guard and
+have you all whipped for a set of dastardly cowards, eh? . . . Or better
+still, hanged, as your leader and friend here suggests--what?"
+
+They had no need to be told twice. Still silently they picked up their
+caps, one or two of them scratched their addled pates. They were ashamed
+and really frightened, and had quite forgotten all about the witch.
+
+There's nothing like real, personal danger to allay imaginary terrors.
+The devil was all very well, but he was a long way off, and for the
+moment invisible, whilst His Grace of Wessex was really there, and he
+was--well! he was His Grace of Wessex, and that's all about it.
+
+One by one they edged away, and the darkness soon swallowed them up. The
+Duke never moved until the last of them had gone, leaving only Abra and
+his henchman cowering in terror beside the platform.
+
+From behind a bank of clouds the pale, crescent moon suddenly emerged
+and threw a faint silvery light on the now deserted scene of the
+dastardly outrage.
+
+"Well, Harry, my friend, I think that's the last of them . . ." said
+Wessex lightly as he finally put up his sword and mounted the steps to
+the platform.
+
+Mirrab's long strands of golden hair hung like a veil over her face and
+breast; she had straightened herself out somewhat, but her head was
+still bent. Her tottering reason was very slowly and gradually returning
+to her.
+
+She did not even move whilst Wessex undid the leather belts which tied
+her to the flagstaff, and with his heel kicked the faggots to one side.
+She seemed as unconscious now of her safety as she had been a short
+while ago of her impending doom.
+
+As her last bonds were severed she fell like a shapeless bundle on her
+knees.
+
+He never looked at her. What was she but a poor tattered wreck of
+humanity, whom his timely interference had saved from an appalling
+death? But he was very sorry for her, because she was a woman, and had
+just gone through indescribable sufferings; in that gentle, impersonal
+pity, there was no room for the mere curiosity to know what she was
+like.
+
+Before he finally turned to go, he placed a well-filled purse on the
+ground, not far from where she was cowering, and said very kindly--
+
+"Take my advice, girl, and do not get thyself into any more mischief of
+this sort. Next time there might be no one nigh to get thee out of
+trouble. Come, Harry," he added, calling to his dog, "time is getting
+late."
+
+At the foot of the steps he came across the shrinking forms of Abra and
+his companion. The Duke paused for a moment and said more sternly--
+
+"As for thee, sirrah, get thee gone, bag and baggage, thy tents and thy
+trickeries, before the night is half an hour older. The guard shall be
+sent to protect thee; but if thou art still here an hour hence, those
+sobered ruffians will have returned, and nothing'll save thee and thy
+wench a second time."
+
+He waited for no protestations from the abject wizard, and turned his
+steps towards the river.
+
+As he was crossing the open space, however, he suddenly felt a tight
+grip on his cloak; he turned, yet could see nothing, for the capricious
+moon had once more hidden her light behind a passing cloud, and the
+darkness, by contrast, seemed all the more intense.
+
+But he heard a sound which was very like a sob, and then a murmur which
+had a curious ring of passion in it--
+
+"Thou hast saved my life . . . 'tis thine . . . I give it thee! . . .
+Henceforth, whene'er I read the starlit firmament I'll pray to God that
+the most glorious star in heaven shall guide thy destiny!"
+
+He gave a pleasant laugh, gently disengaged his cloak, and without
+another word went his way.
+
+
+
+
+PART II
+
+THE LADY URSULA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A BEVY OF FAIR MAIDENS
+
+
+Never in all her life had Her Grace of Lincoln experienced anything so
+awful.
+
+Her very coif, usually a pattern of propriety, looked awry and scarcely
+sober on her dear old head, whilst her round, chubby face, a beautiful
+forest of tangled wrinkles, expressed the most dire distress, coupled
+with hopeless, pathetic bewilderment.
+
+"Well?" she repeated over and over again in breathless eagerness.
+
+She seemed scarce to notice the pretty picture before her--two young
+girls standing with arms linked round one another's waists, eyes aglow
+with excitement, and cheeks made rosy with the palpitating intensity of
+the narrative.
+
+Yet was not Her Grace justly proud of the flock of fair maids committed
+to her charge? What more charming than these two specimens of austere
+Queen Mary's dainty maids-of-honour, with their slim figures in the
+stiff corsets and unwieldy farthingales, their unruly curls held in
+becomingly by delicate lace coifs, and the sombre panelling of the room
+throwing up in harmonious contrast the vivid colouring of robes and
+kerchiefs, of lace and of complexion?
+
+But to-day the Duchess of Lincoln had no eye for the charming sight.
+Leaning well forward in her high, straight-backed chair, her fat,
+be-ringed fingers were beating a veritable devil's tattoo against its
+brocaded arms.
+
+"Alicia, girl, why don't you go on?" she added impatiently. "La! I vow
+the wench'll make me die of choler."
+
+Alicia, in the eagerness of telling her thrilling story, had somewhat
+lost her breath; but now she made a vigorous effort to resume.
+
+"Well," she said, "Your Grace must remember the night was very dark.
+Barbara and I were strolling by the low wall, when suddenly the clouds
+parted, the river was flooded with light, and just below us, not ten
+paces away, we saw----"
+
+But here she broke off suddenly. A look of genuine distress crossed her
+piquant little face; she looked inquiringly at her companion, then at
+the Duchess, whilst her merry eyes began to fill with tears.
+
+"Oh! I scarce like to repeat it," she said hesitatingly at last, "for
+truly I love her so."
+
+But Her Grace was in no mood to pander to girlish sentimentality just
+now. Her small round eyes, usually alive with good-nature and
+kindliness, were looking positively stern.
+
+"Go on, child," she commanded, "cannot you see that I am verily sitting
+on pins? Was it--was it the Lady Ursula you saw?"
+
+"Nay, madam," protested Alicia feebly, "'twas Barbara saw her--I do not
+believe that it was Ursula."
+
+"She was wrapped in a dark cloak from head to foot," here interposed the
+other young maid. "When we called she looked up, but, seeing us,
+immediately fled along the bank."
+
+"Then the clouds obscured the moon again, and we saw nothing more,"
+resumed Alicia. "Barbara may have been mistaken."
+
+Barbara nodded, quite longing to convince herself that she had indeed
+been mistaken. The two girls were getting more and more confused.
+Clearly they had no wish to get their absent friend into trouble, and,
+having been led into relating their experiences of the night before,
+they tardily realized that they were collecting storm-clouds over Lady
+Ursula's unsuspecting head.
+
+With all her good-nature the Duchess was a stern disciplinarian, taking
+herself and her duties very seriously. When the Queen entrusted her with
+the formation of her own immediate feminine entourage, she also
+expressed a desire that her maids-of-honour and ladies-in-waiting should
+be models of decorum and veritable patterns of all the virtues.
+
+The Court, which had been little else than a name in the old and gloomy
+palace of Richmond and the simple household at Esher, had seen some of
+its old glories revived since Mary's proclamation as sole and royal
+liege lady, Queen Sovereign of England.
+
+Before and since the coronation, Hampton Court had once more become
+alive with merriment and laughter, with tennis and bowling games,
+jousts, suppers, and balls even, as in the best days of King Harry.
+Young people, who had been only temporarily sobered through the raging
+political conflicts of the past few months, quickly reasserted their
+desire for gaiety and splendour, and the Queen herself, somewhat
+softened with the joy of seeing England's loyalty towards her, tacitly
+acquiesced in this return to the ancient magnificence of her father's
+court.
+
+Moreover, there were the foreign ambassadors to entertain, all eager to
+secure the Queen's hand for their respective royal masters, and in the
+meanwhile equally ready to be impressed with the luxuries of the English
+Court and the beauty and grace of its ladies.
+
+The Duchess of Lincoln's task was certes no easy one, since it involved
+the keeping in order of a very attractive, pleasure-loving, highly
+unruly little flock.
+
+So far, however, nothing serious had occurred to disturb her
+equanimity. The maids-of-honour placed under her charge had quickly
+succumbed to the charm of Her Grace's kindliness, and were easily ruled
+with the rod of good-nature.
+
+Some scoldings and lectures, an admonition now and then, or a threat of
+more severe punishment, had readily quelled any incipient
+insubordination.
+
+But since the arrival of Lady Ursula Glynde at the Palace matters had
+become more serious. The child was so terribly independent, so
+self-willed and unruly, and with it all so sweet and lovable, that the
+Duchess found all her scoldings of absolutely no avail.
+
+Ursula defied her, then kissed and fondled her, rendering her absolutely
+helpless and defying her authority.
+
+When it was discovered that the naughty child had, on the very day
+following Her Majesty's coronation, visited East Molesey Fair, masked
+and veiled, and attended only by weak-willed, silly Margaret Cobham, Her
+Grace felt nigh to having the palsy. But even that unseemly escapade was
+nothing in comparison with the terrible revelations which had recently
+come to Her Grace's ears. One or two rumours had already gained currency
+that one of Her Majesty's maids-of-honour had been seen alone and at
+night outside the purlieus of the Palace. So far, fortunately, the Queen
+knew nothing of this, nor had it been talked about among the gentlemen
+of the Court.
+
+Heavens above! if such a thing were to happen! . . .
+
+"A scandal!" moaned the Duchess piteously, "a scandal in my department!
+Oh, I shall never survive it! If Her Majesty should hear of it, who is
+so austere, so pious! . . . And with my lord Cardinal staying in the
+Palace just now. . . . What would he think of the morals of an English
+Court! . . . Oh! the naughty, wicked child, thus to bring disgrace upon
+us all."
+
+Some of the rumours anent Lady Ursula's mysterious nightly wanderings
+had already reached her; she had placed the other girls under severe
+cross-examination, and finally elicited from them the confirmation of
+her worst fears.
+
+"Nay, madam," rejoined Alicia, tardily smitten with remorse, "I feel
+sure she means no harm. Ursula is gay, a madcap, full of fun, but she is
+too proud to stoop to an intrigue."
+
+"Aye! but, child, she hath vanity," said the Duchess, shaking her grey
+curls, "and vanity is an evil counsellor. And, remember, 'tis not the
+first time she has been seen alone, at night, outside the purlieus of
+the garden. The Lord protect us! I should never survive a scandal."
+
+"An Your Grace would believe me," added Barbara consolingly, "I think
+'tis but a bit of foolish curiosity on the Lady Ursula's part."
+
+But Her Grace would not be consoled.
+
+"Curiosity?" she said. "Alas! 'tis an evil moment when curiosity leads a
+maiden out of doors at night . . . alone . . . Oh!"
+
+And she made a gesture of such horror, there was such a look of stern
+condemnation in her kind old face, that the two girls began to feel
+really afraid as to what might befall that madcap, Ursula Glynde.
+
+No one had ever seen the Duchess actually angry.
+
+They were all ready to take up the cudgels for the absent girl now.
+
+"Nay! 'tis harmless curiosity enough," said Alicia hotly. "Ursula is
+being very badly treated."
+
+"Badly treated!" exclaimed Her Grace.
+
+"Aye! she is affianced to the Duke of Wessex."
+
+"Well, and what of it, child?"
+
+"What of it?" retorted the girl indignantly, "she is never allowed to
+see him. The moment His Grace is expected to arrive in the Queen's
+presence, 'tis--'Lady Ursula, you may retire. I shall not need your
+services to-day.'"
+
+And looking straight down her pretty nose, dainty Lady Alicia Wrenford
+pursed her lips and put on the starchy airs of a soured matron of forty.
+
+The Duchess of Lincoln threw up her hands in horror.
+
+"Fie on you, child!" she said sternly, "mimicking Her Majesty."
+
+"'Tis quite true what Alicia says," here interposed Barbara, pouting;
+"everything is done to keep Ursula out of His Grace's way. And we, too,
+are made the scapegoats of this silly intrigue."
+
+"Barbara, I forbid you to talk like that!"
+
+"I mean nothing disrespectful, madam, yet 'tis patent to every one. Why
+are we relegated to this dreary old chamber this brilliant afternoon,
+when my lord the Cardinal and all the foreign ambassadors are at the
+Palace? Why are we not allowed to join the others at tennis, or watch
+the gentlemen at bowls? Why were Helen and Margaret kept from seeing the
+jousts? Why? Why? Why?"
+
+She was stamping her little foot, eager, impatient, excited. The Duchess
+felt somewhat bewildered before this hurricane of girlish wrath.
+
+"Because Her Majesty ordered it thus, child," she said in a more
+conciliatory spirit; "she hath not always need of all her
+maids-of-honour round her."
+
+"Nay! that's not the reason," rejoined Barbara, "and Your Grace is too
+clever to believe it."
+
+"You are a silly child and----"
+
+"Then we are all silly, for 'tis patent to us all. 'Tis Ursula who is
+being kept wilfully away from the Court, or rather from seeing His Grace
+of Wessex, and in order not to make these machinations too obvious, some
+of us are also relegated in the background in her company."
+
+"And 'tis small wonder that Ursula should wish to catch sight of the man
+whom her father vowed she should wed or else enter into a convent,"
+concluded Alicia defiantly.
+
+Her Grace was at her wits' ends. Too clever not to have noticed the
+intrigue to which the girls now made reference, she would sooner have
+died than owned that her Queen was acting wrongfully or even pettily.
+
+However, for the moment she was spared the further discussion of this
+unpleasant topic, for a long, merry, girlish laugh was suddenly heard
+echoing through the great chambers beyond.
+
+"Hush!" said the Duchess with reassumed severity, "'tis that misguided
+child herself. Now remember, ladies, not a word of all this. I must
+learn the truth on this scandal, and will set a watch to-night. But not
+a word to her."
+
+The next moment the subject of all this animated conversation threw open
+the heavy oak door of the room. She came running in, with her fair hair
+flying in a deliriously mad tangle round her shoulders, her eyes dancing
+with glee, whilst above her head she was, with one small hand,
+flourishing a small piece of paper, the obvious cause of this apparently
+uncontrollable fit of girlish merriment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL
+
+
+The Duchess was frowning for all she was worth. Alicia and Barbara tried
+to look serious, but were obviously only too ready to join in any frolic
+which happened to be passing in Ursula Glynde's lively little head.
+
+"Oh!" said the latter, as soon as she had partially recovered her
+breath. "Oh! I vow 'tis the best of the bunch."
+
+With the freedom of a spoilt child, who knows how welcome are its
+caresses, Ursula sidled up to the Duchess of Lincoln and sat down upon
+the arm of her chair.
+
+"Your Grace, a share of your seat I entreat," she said gaily, heedless
+of stern looks. "Nay! I'll die of laughing unless you let me read you
+this."
+
+"Child! child!" admonished the Duchess, still trying to look severe,
+"this loud laughter is most unseemly--and your cheeks all ablaze! What
+is it now?"
+
+"What is it, sweet Grace?" responded the young girl. "A poem! Listen!"
+
+She smoothed out the piece of paper, spread it out upon her knee and
+began reading solemnly:--
+
+   "If all the world were sought so farre
+    Who could find such a wight?
+    Her beauty twinkleth like a starre
+    Within the frosty night.
+    Her roseall colour comes and goes
+    With such a comely grace,
+    More ruddier too than doth the rose,
+    Within her lively face."
+
+"And beneath this sonnet," she continued, "a drawing--see!--a heart
+pierced by a dagger. _His_ heart--_my_ beauty which twinkleth like a
+starre!"
+
+Who could resist the joy and gladness, the freshness, the youth, the
+girlishness which emanated from Ursula's entire personality? The two
+other girls pressed closely round her, giggling like school-children at
+sight of the rough, sentimental device affixed to the love poem.
+
+The Duchess vainly endeavoured to keep up a semblance of sternness, but
+she could not meet those laughing eyes, now dark, now blue, now an
+ever-changing grey, alive with irrepressible mischief, yet full of
+loving tenderness. She felt that her wrath would soon melt in the
+sunshine of that girlish smile.
+
+"Lady Ursula, this is most unseemly," she said as coldly as she could.
+"How came you by this poem?"
+
+Ursula threw her arms round the feebly-resisting old dame.
+
+"Hush!" she whispered, "in your dear old ears! I found it, sweet Duchess
+. . . beside my stockings . . . when I came out of my bath!"
+
+"Horror!"
+
+"Now, Duchess! dear, sweet, darling, beautiful Duchess, tell me, who
+think you wrote this poem? And who--_who_ think you placed it near my
+stockings?"
+
+The Duchess was almost speechless, partly through genuine horror, but
+chiefly because a sweet, fresh face was pressed closely to her old
+cheek.
+
+"'Twas not the Earl of Norfolk," continued Ursula meditatively. She
+seemed quite unconscious of the enormity of her offence, and sought the
+eyes of her young friends in confirmation of these various surmises. "He
+cannot write verses. Nor could it be my lord of Overcliffe, for he would
+not know where to find my stockings."
+
+"The vanity of the child!" sighed Her Grace. "Think you these great
+gentlemen would write verses to a chit of a girl like you?"
+
+But her kind eyes, resting with obvious pride on the dainty figure
+beside her, belied the severity of her words.
+
+"Yes," replied Ursula decisively, "bad ones!--not such beautiful verses
+as these."
+
+Then she went on with her conjectures.
+
+"And there's my lord of Everingham, and the Marquis of Taunton, and----"
+
+"His Grace of Wessex," suggested Alicia archly, despite the Duchess's
+warning frown.
+
+"Alas, no!" sighed Ursula, "for he has never been allowed to see me."
+
+"Ursula!" came in ever-recurring feeble protests from the old dowager.
+
+But the young girl was wholly unabashed.
+
+"But he _will_ see me--before to-night," she said.
+
+The others exchanged significant glances.
+
+"To-night?"
+
+"Yes! What have I said? Why do you all look like that?"
+
+"Because your conduct, child, is positively wanton," said the Duchess.
+
+But Ursula only hugged the kind old soul all the more closely.
+
+"Now--now," she coaxed, "don't be angry, darling. There!--look!" she
+added with mock horror, "your coif is all awry."
+
+With deft fingers she rearranged the delicate lace cap over Her Grace's
+white curls.
+
+"So," she said, "now you look pretty again--and your nice, fat cheeks
+have the sweetest of dimples. Nay, I vow, all these young gallants only
+sigh with love for me because _you_ frown on them so!"
+
+"What a madcap!" sighed the Duchess, mollified.
+
+"You won't be angry with me?" queried the girl earnestly.
+
+"Nay! that depends what mad pranks you have been after."
+
+"Sh--sh!--sh!--'tis a deadly secret. Barbara, Alicia, come a little
+closer."
+
+She paused a moment, whilst all three of them crowded round Her Grace of
+Lincoln's chair.
+
+Then Ursula said solemnly--
+
+"The Queen is in love with my future husband!"
+
+The Duchess of Lincoln nearly fell backwards in a faint.
+
+"Ursula!" she gasped.
+
+"Nay, that's not the secret," continued Ursula, quite unperturbed, "for
+that is town-talk, and every one at Court knows that she won't let him
+see me for fear he should fall in love with me. And my lord Cardinal is
+furious because he wants the Queen to marry Philip of Spain, and he is
+wishing His Grace of Wessex down there, where all naughty Cardinals go."
+
+"Child! . . . child! . . ."
+
+"But the days are slipping by, darling," added the young girl, with just
+a shade of seriousness in her eyes. "All these intriguers may fight as
+much as they like, but if I do not wed His Grace of Wessex, if he should
+be inveigled into marrying the Queen, I must to the convent. My dear
+father made me swear it on his deathbed, when I was beside myself with
+grief, and scarce knew what I did. 'There is but one true gentleman to
+whom I would trust my child,' he said to me; 'swear to me, Ursula, that
+if Wessex claims you not, that you will never marry any one else, but
+spend your days in happy singleness in a convent. Swear it, little one.'
+He was so ill, so dear, I swore and----"
+
+"The convent is the proper place for such a feather-brain as yourself,"
+concluded the Duchess with as gruff a voice as she could command.
+
+"But I do not wish to be a nun," protested Ursula, as tears began to
+gather in her eyes, "and I do want to wed Wessex, who is handsome--and
+gallant--and witty--and--and," she added coquettishly, "when he sees
+me--I vow he'll not let me go to a convent either, so----"
+
+She leant closer to the kind dowager and once more whispered
+confidentially in her ear.
+
+"So, as the Queen is engaged in prayers for at least half an hour, I've
+sent His Grace word by one of the pages that the Duchess of Lincoln
+desired his presence in this chamber--here!"
+
+But this was really past bearing.
+
+"I! . . ." exclaimed the Duchess in horror. "I? . . . desire his
+presence? . . . Merciful heavens! what will His Grace think?"
+
+Once more Ursula, like the veritable child that she was, was dancing
+like mad round the room, now alone, clapping her tiny hands together,
+then seizing one of her companions by the waist, she whirled with her,
+round and round, until she fell back breathless against the Duchess's
+chair. And all the while her tongue went prattling on, now talking at
+top speed, anon singing out the words in the madness of her glee.
+
+"And he is coming, dear Duchess," she said. "'He'll attend upon Her
+Grace at once!' these were his words to that pet of a page, and he'll
+see me--and--and----"
+
+Now she paused, kneeling beside her old friend, putting coaxing arms
+round the bulky figure of the kind soul.
+
+"But don't tell him my name all at once, Duchess darling," she whispered
+entreatingly; "let him fall in love with me without knowing that I am
+his affianced bride--for that might prejudice him against me. Just
+mumble something when he asks my name, and let me do the rest. Give me
+another kiss, darling. Alicia--Alicia," she cried in feverish anxiety,
+"is my kerchief straight at the back? and--and--oh, my hair!"
+
+Still in that same madly-excited mood, she ran to a small oval mirror
+which hung on one of the walls, close to the great bay window.
+
+The Duchess during that brief moment's respite tried to collect her
+scattered wits.
+
+"But oh! what shall I say to His Grace?" she moaned distractedly.
+"Child! child! to your folly there is no end!"
+
+A quickly smothered shriek from Ursula now brought the other girls to
+her side in the embrasure. She was pointing across the court to the
+gateway beneath the clock tower.
+
+"He is coming!" she cried, with a slightly nervous tremor in her voice.
+"It is he, with my lord Everingham; they are laughing and talking
+together. . . . Oh, how handsome he looks!" she added enthusiastically.
+"My future husband, _my_ lord, not the Queen's--mine own, mine own!
+Alicia, tell me, hast ever seen a more goodly sight than that of _my_
+future husband in that beautiful silken doublet and with that dear, dear
+dog of his walking so proudly behind him? Harry Plantagenet, thou'rt a
+lucky dog, and I'll kiss thee first, and--and----"
+
+Then she ran back to the Duchess.
+
+"Two minutes to mount the stairs, two more to cross the Great Hall, then
+the watching chamber, the presence chamber. . . . In six minutes he will
+be here--hush!--I hear a footstep! . . . Holy Virgin, how my heart
+beats!"
+
+There had come a discreet knock at the door. All four women were too
+excited to respond, but the next moment the door was opened and a young
+page, dressed in the same gorgeous livery which Henry VIII had
+originally prescribed, entered and bowed to the ladies.
+
+Then he turned to the Duchess of Lincoln.
+
+"Her Majesty the Queen desires the immediate presence of Her Grace and
+of her maids-of-honour in the Oratory."
+
+There was dead silence in the room whilst the page once more bowed in
+the elaborate manner ordained by Court etiquette; then he walked
+backwards to the door, and stood there, holding it open ready for the
+ladies to pass.
+
+"No, no, no!" whispered Ursula excitedly, as the Duchess immediately
+rose to obey.
+
+"Ladies!" commanded Her Grace.
+
+"One minute, darling," entreated Ursula, "just one short little minute!"
+
+But where the Queen's commands were concerned Her Grace of Lincoln was
+adamant.
+
+"Ladies!" she ordered once more.
+
+Alicia and Barbara, though terribly disappointed at the failure of the
+exciting conspiracy, were ready enough to obey. Ursula wildly ran back
+to the window.
+
+"I can see his silhouette and that of my lord Everingham slowly moving
+across the Great Hall," she said.
+
+"Oh! why is he so slow?"
+
+The Duchess turned to the page.
+
+"Precede!" she commanded. "We'll follow."
+
+She then pointed to the door. Alicia and Barbara, endeavouring to look
+grave, walked out with becoming dignity.
+
+Her Grace went up to Ursula, who was still clinging to the window
+embrasure with passionate obstinacy.
+
+"Lady Ursula Glynde," she said sternly, "if you do not obey Her
+Majesty's commands instantly, you'll be dismissed the Court this very
+day."
+
+And while His Grace of Wessex was slowly wending his way towards the
+chamber where he had been so eagerly expected, Lady Ursula, defiant and
+rebellious, was being peremptorily marshalled off in an opposite
+direction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+INTRIGUES
+
+
+When Wessex, accompanied by his friend, reached the room which so lately
+was echoing with merry girlish laughter, he was met by a page, deputed
+by the Duchess of Lincoln to present her excuses to His Grace for her
+non-appearance.
+
+"Nay! marry, this is the bravest comedy ever witnessed," laughed the
+Duke, when the boy had gone.
+
+"What, my lord?" asked Everingham with seeming unconcern.
+
+"A comedy, friend, in which the Queen, Her Grace of Lincoln, you, and
+His Eminence the Cardinal, all play leading roles."
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"Well done, man! Nay! I know not yet which of you will win; but this I
+know, that whilst I do my best to whisper sweet nothings in Her
+Majesty's ear, you are pleased, the Cardinal is furious, and the Duchess
+of Lincoln discreetly keeps my affianced bride out of my way."
+
+"For this at least Your Grace should be grateful," rejoined his friend
+with a smile.
+
+"Grateful that other people should guide my destiny for me? Well,
+perhaps! 'Twould certes have been ungallant to flee from danger, when
+danger takes the form of a future wife. I cannot picture myself saying
+to a lady: 'Madam, honour demands that I should wed you, and thus hath
+put it out of my power ever to love you.' But since the Lady Ursula is
+so unapproachable, marry!--methinks I am almost free!"
+
+"Perchance it is the lady herself who avoids Your Grace."
+
+"Nay! undoubtedly she does. Poor girl! how she must hate the very
+thought of me. Her dear father, I fear me, was wont to sing my praises
+in her childish ears; now that she hath arrived at years of discretion,
+my very name must have become an obsession to her. Obviously even a
+convent must be preferable. Then why this mad desire to keep us apart?
+Mutual understanding would do that soon enough."
+
+The two men had once more turned to go back the way they came; slowly
+they strolled across the vast and lofty rooms and through the Great
+Hall, which, deserted at this time of day, was the scene of so much
+gaiety and magnificence during the evening hours.
+
+"Your Grace, methinks, must be mistaken," said Everingham after a while;
+"there is, at any rate on the part of your friends, no desire to keep
+you and the Lady Ursula apart; you are best judge of your own honour, my
+lord, and no one would presume to dictate to you; but the most sensitive
+conscience in England could but hold the opinion that, whilst the lady
+may feel bound by her promise to her father, you are as free as
+air--free to wed whom you choose."
+
+"By the mass! what an anomaly, friend! Free to wed! free to wear
+fetters! the most terrible chains ever devised by the turpitude of man."
+
+"Marriage is a great institution----"
+
+"Nay! 'tis an evil one, contrived out of malice by priests and old maids
+to enchain a woman who would rather be free to a man who speedily
+becomes bored."
+
+"Nay! but when that woman is a queen?"
+
+"Take off her crown and what is she, friend?" rejoined His Grace
+lightly. "A woman . . . to be desired, of course, to be loved, by all
+means--but at whose feet we should only recline long enough to make all
+other men envious, and one woman jealous."
+
+Everingham frowned. He hated this flippant, careless mood of his friend.
+He did not understand it. To him the idea of such a possibility as a
+union with the Queen of England was so great, so wonderful, so
+superhuman almost, that he felt that the man who deserved such
+incommensurate honour should spend half his days on his knees, thanking
+God for such a glorious destiny.
+
+That Wessex hung back when Mary herself was holding out her hand to him
+seemed to this enthusiast almost a sacrilege.
+
+"But surely you have ambition, my lord?" he said at last.
+
+"Ambition?" replied Wessex with characteristic light-heartedness. "Yes,
+one!--to be a boy again."
+
+"Nay! an you were that now, you could not understand all that England
+expects of you. The Queen is harassed by the Cardinal and the Spanish
+ambassador. Philip but desires her hand in order to lay the iron heel of
+Spain upon the neck of submissive England. Your Grace can save us all.
+Mary loves you, would wed you to-morrow."
+
+"And send me to the block for my infidelities--supposed or real--the day
+after, and be free to wed Philip or the Dauphin after all."
+
+"I'll not believe it."
+
+"Friend! do you know what you ask of me? To marry--that is to say to
+give up all that makes life poetic, beautiful, amusing, the love which
+lasts a day, the delights which live one hour, woman in her most
+alluring aspect, the unattainable; and in exchange what do you offer
+me--the smaller half of a crown."
+
+"The gratitude of a nation . . ." protested Everingham.
+
+"Ah! A woman, however fickle she may be, is more constant than a nation
+. . . As for gratitude? . . . nay, my lord . . . let us not speak of the
+gratitude of nations."
+
+"This is not your last word, friend," pleaded Lord Everingham earnestly.
+
+They had reached the foot of the stairs, and were once more under the
+gateway of the clock tower, where Lady Ursula Glynde had caught sight of
+them from the great bay-window opposite.
+
+It was a glorious afternoon. October, always lovely in England, was more
+beautiful and mellow this year than it had ever been. Wessex paused a
+moment, with his slender hand placed affectionately on his friend's
+shoulder. He looked round him--at the great windows of the hall, the
+vast enclosure of the Base Court beyond, the distant tower of the chapel
+visible above the fantastic roofs and gables of Henry VIII's chambers,
+the massive, imposing grandeur of the great pile which had seen so many
+tragedies, witnessed so many sorrows, so many downfalls, such treachery
+and such horrible deaths. A shudder seemed to go through his powerful
+frame, a look of resolution, of pride, and of absolute disdain crept
+into his lazy, deep-set eyes. Then he said quietly--
+
+"That is my last word, friend. I'll never be made a puppet on which to
+hang the cloak of political factions and intrigues. My life belongs to
+my country, but neither my liberty nor my self-respect. If my friendship
+will help to influence the Queen into refusing to wed the King of Spain
+I'll continue to exert it to the best of my ability, but I'll not become
+Her Majesty's lapdog, nor the tool of my friends."
+
+Then once more the hardness and determination vanished from his face;
+the nonchalance and careless idleness of the grand seigneur was alone
+visible now.
+
+With easy familiarity he linked his arm through that of Everingham.
+
+"Shall we rejoin Her Majesty on the terrace?" he said lightly. "She will
+have finished her orisons, and will be awaiting us. Come, Harry!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+HIS EMINENCE
+
+
+A merry company was gathered on the terrace, which, fronting the
+ill-fated Cardinal Wolsey's rooms, descended in elegantly sloping grades
+down to the old Pond Garden, giving an exquisite view across the tall,
+trim hedges, the parterres gay with late summer flowers, and the green
+bosquets of lilac and yew, to the serpentine river and distant landscape
+beyond.
+
+Mary Tudor had indeed finished her afternoon orisons. She had recited
+her rosary in the chapel, kneeling before the altar and surrounded by
+her maids-of-honour: no doubt she had prayed for the Virgin's help to
+aid her in the accomplishment of the one great wish which lay so near to
+her heart.
+
+She was this afternoon expecting the arrival of a special envoy from His
+Holiness the Pope, and had to curtail her prayers in consequence. She
+had strolled back to the terrace, because His Eminence the Cardinal de
+Moreno was there, the ambassador of His Most Catholic Majesty the King
+of Spain, also the Duc de Noailles, who represented the King of France,
+and Scheyfne, who watched over the interests of the Emperor Charles V in
+this game of political conflicts, wherein the hand of the Queen of
+England was the guerdon.
+
+Mary Tudor watched them all with a sleepy eye. She felt dreamy and
+contented this beautiful afternoon: was not the envoy from Rome bringing
+her a special blessing from His Holiness? and what could that blessing
+be but the love of the one man in all the world to whom she would
+gladly have given her hand to hold and her lips to kiss?
+
+She sighed as she settled herself down on the straight-backed chair
+which she affected. Noailles and Scheyfne hurried eagerly towards her.
+His Eminence bowed low as she approached, but her eyes wandered
+restlessly round her in search of the one form dear to her, and she
+frowned impatiently when she missed the proud, handsome face, whose
+smile alone could bring hers forth in response.
+
+She listened with but half an ear to Noailles' platitudes, or to His
+Eminence's smooth talk, until close by she heard the well-known step.
+She did not turn her head. Her heart, by its sudden, rapid beating, had
+told her that he was there.
+
+Mary Tudor was not quite forty then, a woman full of the passionate
+intensity of feeling, characteristic of the Tudors, neither beautiful
+nor yet an adept at women's wiles; but when she heard Wessex' footsteps
+on the flagstones of the terrace, her whole face lighted up with that
+radiance which makes every woman fair--the radiance of a whole-hearted
+love.
+
+"Nay, my lord Cardinal," she said with sudden impatience, "Your Eminence
+has vaunted the beauties of Spain long enough to-day. I feel sure," she
+added, half turning towards Wessex, "that His Grace, though a truant
+from our side, will hold a brief for Merrie England against you."
+
+The Duke, as he approached, scanned with a lazy eye the brilliant
+company gathered round the Queen; an amused smile, made up partly of
+sarcasm, wholly of insouciance, glimmered in his eyes as he caught the
+frown, quickly suppressed, which appeared on the Cardinal's shrewd,
+clever face.
+
+"Nay, His Eminence hath but to look on our Sovereign Lady," he said, as
+he gallantly kissed the tips of the royal hand, graciously extended to
+him, "to know that England hath naught to envy Spain."
+
+Mary, with the rapid intuition of the woman who loves, seemed to detect
+a more serious tone in Wessex' voice than was his wont. She looked
+inquiringly at him. The thoughts, engendered in his mind by Everingham's
+earnestness and enthusiasm, had left their shadow over his lighter mood.
+
+"You look troubled, my lord!" she said anxiously.
+
+"What trouble I had Your Grace's presence has already dispelled," he
+replied gently.
+
+It amused him to watch the discomfited faces of his political
+antagonists, whose presence now Mary seemed completely to ignore. Her
+whole personality was transformed in his presence: she looked ten years
+younger; her heavy, slow movements appeared suddenly to gain in
+elasticity.
+
+She rose and beckoned to Wessex to accompany her. Neither Noailles nor
+Scheyfne cared to follow, fearing a rebuke.
+
+His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno alone, seeing her turn towards the
+gardens, ventured on a remark.
+
+"At what hour will Your Majesty deign to receive the envoy of His
+Holiness?" he asked unctuously.
+
+"As soon as he arrives," replied the Queen curtly.
+
+His Eminence watched the two figures disappearing down the stone steps
+of the terrace. There was a troubled, anxious look in his keen eyes. The
+first inkling had just dawned upon him that perhaps he might fail in his
+mission after all.
+
+A new experience for the Cardinal de Moreno.
+
+When Philip of Spain desired to wed Mary of England he chose the one man
+in all Europe most able to carry his wishes through. A perfect grand
+seigneur, veritable prince of the Church, but a priest only in name, for
+he had never taken Holy Orders, His Eminence shone in every circle
+wherein he appeared, through the brilliancy of his intellect, the charm
+and suavity of his manner, and above all by that dominating personality
+of his, which _willed_ so strongly what he desired to obtain.
+
+Willed it at times--so his enemies said--without scruple. Well, perhaps!
+and if so, why not? would be His Eminence's own argument.
+
+Heaven had given him certain weapons: these he used in order to get
+Heaven's own ends. And in the mind of the Cardinal de Moreno, Heaven was
+synonymous with the political interests of the Catholic Church. England
+was too fine a country to be handed over to the schismatic sect without
+a struggle, the people were too earnest, too deeply religious to be
+allowed to remain in the enemy's camp.
+
+And His Eminence was not only fighting for an important political
+alliance for his royal master, but also for the reconquest of Catholic
+England. Wessex, a firm yet unostentatious adherent of the new faith,
+was to him an opponent in every sense.
+
+When the Cardinal first landed in England he had been assured that the
+volatile and nonchalant Duke would never become a serious obstacle to
+Spanish plans.
+
+The Duke? Perhaps not. But there was the Queen herself, half sick for
+love! and women's follies have ere now upset the most deeply laid, most
+important plans.
+
+"Ah, my friend!" sighed His Eminence with ill-concealed irritation, as
+the Marquis de Suarez came idly lounging beside him, "alas! and
+alack-a-day! when diplomacy hath to reckon with women. . . . Look at
+that picture!" he added, pointing with be-ringed, slender, tapering
+finger to the figures of Wessex and Mary Tudor disappearing amid the
+bosquets of the park, "and think that the destinies of Europe depend
+upon how a woman of forty can succeed in chaining that butterfly."
+
+Don Miguel too had followed with frowning eyes the little comedy just
+enacted upon the terrace. His intellect, though perhaps not so keen as
+that of his chief, was nevertheless sufficiently on the alert to
+recognize that Mary Tudor had distinctly intended to administer a snub
+to the entire diplomatic corps, by her marked preference for Wessex'
+sole company.
+
+"Chance certainly, seems against your schemes and mine, my lord
+Cardinal," he said; "for that butterfly is heart-free and indolent,
+whilst the woman of forty is a queen."
+
+"Indolent, yes," mused His Eminence, "but ambitious?"
+
+"His friends will supply the ambition," rejoined Don Miguel; "and the
+Crown of England is a heavy prize."
+
+The Cardinal did not speak for a moment. He seemed buried in thought.
+
+"I was thinking of the beautiful Lady Ursula Glynde," he said
+meditatively after a while.
+
+"Beautiful indeed. But His Grace is never allowed to see her."
+
+"But when he does----"
+
+"Oh! if I judge him rightly, when he does see her--she is passing
+beautiful, remember--his roving fancy will no doubt be enchained
+for--shall we say--half an hour--perhaps half a day. . . . What then?"
+
+"Half an hour!" mused the Cardinal. "Much may be done in half an hour,
+my lord Marquis."
+
+"Bah!"
+
+"In half an hour a woman, even if she be a queen, might become piqued
+and jealous, and the destinies of Europe will be shaped accordingly."
+
+His keen grey eyes were searching the bosquets, trying to read what went
+on behind the dark yew hedges of the park.
+
+"To think that the fate of Catholic Europe should depend upon the chance
+meeting of a young girl and a Court gallant," sighed Don Miguel
+impatiently.
+
+"The fate of empires has hung on more slender threads than these ere
+now, my son," rejoined His Eminence quietly; "diplomacy is the art of
+seeming to ignore the great occasions whilst seizing the small
+opportunity."
+
+He said nothing more, for at that same moment there came to his ears,
+gently echoing across the terrace, the sound of a half-gay,
+half-melancholy ditty. A pure, girlish voice was singing somewhere
+within the Palace, like a young caged bird behind the bars, at sight of
+the brilliant sunshine above.
+
+Don Miguel gave a short sarcastic laugh.
+
+"The Lady Ursula's voice," he said.
+
+Then he pointed to the more distant portion of the garden, where Wessex
+and Mary were once more seen strolling slowly back towards the terrace.
+
+A look of expectancy, of shrewd and sudden intuition crept into the
+Cardinal's handsome face. The eyes lighted up as if with a quick,
+bright, inward vision, whilst the thin lips seemed to close with a snap,
+as if bent on guarding the innermost workings of the mind.
+
+He took his breviary from his pocket and began walking along the
+flagstones of the terrace in the direction whence the song had come. His
+head was bent; apparently he was deeply absorbed in the Latin text.
+
+Don Miguel had not followed him. He knew that his chief wished to be
+alone. He watched the crimson robes slowly fading away into the
+distance. The Cardinal presently disappeared round the angle formed by
+Wolsey's rooms. Beyond these were the fine chambers built by Henry VIII.
+The sweet song still came from there, wafted lightly on the summer
+breeze.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE DESTINIES OF EUROPE
+
+
+Five minutes later His Eminence's brilliantly clad figure once more
+reappeared round the angle of the Palace. The breviary was no longer in
+his hands.
+
+A few moments later he had joined Don Miguel, and together the two men
+watched the Queen and Wessex, as they drew nearer to the terrace steps.
+
+A smile was on His Eminence's lips, suave, slightly sarcastic, and at
+the same time triumphant, yet at this very instant when he seemed so
+pleased with himself, or with events in general, Mary Tudor was looking
+with loving anxiety in His Grace of Wessex' eyes.
+
+"I seem unable to cheer you to-day, my dear lord," she said. "What has
+become of your usual gay spirits?"
+
+"Gone eavesdropping on my lord Cardinal," replied the Duke with a smile,
+as he spied the crimson robes on the top of the steps, "to find out how
+soon a King of Spain will rule over England and capture the heart of our
+Queen."
+
+Mary paused and suddenly laid an eager hand on his wrist.
+
+"Methought you cared nothing for the affairs of state," she said with
+some sadness, "and still less as to who shall rule over the heart of
+your Queen."
+
+"Shall I dismiss the Spanish ambassador?" she added in an excited
+whisper, "and His Eminence?--and M. de Noailles? . . . all of them?
+. . . I have not yet given my answer. Will you dictate it, my lord?"
+
+He looked up and saw the Cardinal's piercing eyes fixed steadily upon
+him. For one moment he hesitated. His Eminence looked so sure of
+himself, so proud of his ascendency over this impulsive woman, that just
+for the space of five seconds the thought crossed his mind that he would
+yield to the entreaties of his friends, and wrest the crown of England
+from the grasping hands of these foreigners, all eagerly waiting to
+snatch it for themselves.
+
+As the Cardinal himself had said, but a short while ago, "the destinies
+of empires oft hang on more slender threads than these." No doubt none
+knew better than the shrewd Spaniard himself, how nigh he was at that
+moment to losing the great game which he played.
+
+Who knows?--if at this instant the sudden commotion on the terrace had
+not stopped the words on Wessex' lips, how different might have been the
+destinies of England! But just as His Grace would have spoken, the
+major-domo's voice rang out:--
+
+"The envoy of His Holiness the Pope awaits Her Majesty in the audience
+chamber."
+
+"The envoy of His Holiness," said His Eminence with his usual suavity,
+as he stepped forward to meet the Queen, "and I am to have the honour of
+introducing him to your Majesty."
+
+The major-domo, who had announced the news, was standing at some little
+distance with the pages who had accompanied him. The rest of the Court
+had dispersed when Mary strolled off with the Duke; only two or three
+ladies, in immediate attendance on the Queen, were laughing and
+chattering close by.
+
+The Palace itself seemed astir with new movement and life, horses were
+stamping in the flagged courts, men were heard running and shouting,
+whilst the rhythmic sound of a brass trumpet at intervals announced the
+important arrival.
+
+But through all this noise and bustle, the sweet, sad ditty sung by a
+fresh young voice still seemed to fill the air.
+
+Mary was visibly chafing under this sudden restraint put upon her by
+rigid ceremonial. His Holiness' envoy could not be kept waiting, though
+she, poor woman, was burning with desire to prolong the happy
+_tete-a-tete_ with the man she loved.
+
+She felt His Eminence's eyes watching her every movement. She threw him
+a defiant look, then peremptorily ordered the major-domo and the pages
+to precede her.
+
+His Grace of Wessex, on the other hand, seemed obviously relieved. He
+had turned his head in the direction whence came that girlish song, and
+appeared to be listening intently.
+
+"Will you accompany us, my lord?" said the Queen in a tone of obvious
+command. "I must not keep the envoy of His Holiness waiting, and have
+need of your presence."
+
+She placed her hand on his arm. Respect and chivalry compelled him to
+obey, yet he seemed loath to go.
+
+"The Lady Ursula's song seems to fascinate His Grace of Wessex,"
+whispered Don Miguel in His Eminence's ear.
+
+"Hush! the small opportunity, my lord Marquis," whispered the Cardinal
+in reply.
+
+"Have I the honour of following Your Majesty?" he added respectfully,
+bowing to the Queen.
+
+"Nay, on our left, Your Eminence," rejoined Mary coldly.
+
+Her right hand was still on Wessex' arm, and slowly, as if reluctantly,
+she began to move in the direction of the Palace. Don Miguel, at an
+almost imperceptible sign from his chief, had quickly disappeared down
+the terrace steps.
+
+"Ah! my breviary!" suddenly exclaimed His Eminence in great
+perturbation. "I forgot it on the terrace!--the Nuncio will desire a
+prayer, and I am helpless without my Latin text! . . . If Your Majesty
+will deign to forgive one moment. . . ."
+
+He made a movement as if he would turn back.
+
+From the further end of the terrace the young singer was continuing her
+song.
+
+"Will Your Eminence allow me?" said the Duke of Wessex with alacrity.
+
+"With pleasure, my dear lord," responded the Cardinal urbanely. "Ah! had
+I your years and you mine, 'twere my pleasure to serve you. . . . And
+Her Majesty will excuse . . ." he added pointedly, for His Grace was
+quite ready to withdraw, whilst Mary was equally prepared to stop him
+with a look. "Will Your Majesty deign to place your hand on my arm? The
+envoy of His Holiness the Pope awaits your Most Catholic Majesty."
+
+He was standing before her, outwardly respectful and full of deference.
+The pages and ladies had already disappeared within the Palace, whilst
+the Duke of Wessex, taking the Queen's silence for consent, had turned
+back towards the distant part of the terrace.
+
+Mary, with all her weaknesses where her affections were concerned, was
+too proud to let this Spaniard see that she felt baffled and not a
+little humiliated. She guessed that this had been a ruse, a trap into
+which she had fallen. How it had all been done she knew not, but she
+could easily guess why.
+
+She smothered the angry words which had risen to her lips, and without
+looking either to the right or left of her, she walked quickly towards
+the Palace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE HAND OF FATE
+
+
+Ursula had had a good cry.
+
+She was a mere girl, only just out of her teens; she had been hideously
+disappointed and had given way to a paroxysm of tears, just like a child
+that has been cheated of its toys.
+
+As far as her actual feelings for Wessex were concerned, she scarcely
+troubled to analyse them. As a tiny child she had worshipped the gallant
+boy, who had always been pointed out to her as the pattern of what an
+English nobleman should be, and moreover as the future husband who was
+to rule over her destiny.
+
+No doubt that the Earl of Truro, lying on his deathbed, had but little
+real perception of what he was doing, when he forced his daughter to
+swear that she would marry Wessex or remain single to the end of her
+days.
+
+But Ursula was thirteen years old then, and held an oath to her father
+to be the most sacred thing in the world. She had not seen Wessex for
+some years, but her girlish imagination had always endowed him with all
+those chivalrous attributes which her own father, whom she idolized, had
+already ascribed to him.
+
+Love? Well, it scarce could be called that as yet. In spite of her score
+of years, Ursula had remained a child in thought, in feelings, in
+temperament. She had spent the last six or seven years within the
+precincts of old Truro Castle, watched over by her late father's
+faithful servants, who brought her up and worshipped her, taught her
+what they knew, and obeyed her implicitly.
+
+Her one idea, however, had remained, that of a marriage with Wessex. By
+right and precedence she could claim a place in the Queen of England's
+immediate entourage. As soon as she was old enough she asserted this
+claim, and journeyed to Esher in charge of an old aunt, who had
+supervised her education since her father's death.
+
+Since then her one desire had been to meet the man to whom she had
+pledged her troth. She had seen him, oh! scores of times, since the day
+on which he came back to the Court, but Mary Tudor, bent on winning his
+love, had resolutely kept him away from the beautiful girl who, she
+instinctively felt, would prove a formidable rival.
+
+It had been easy enough up to now. His Grace, partly in order to please
+his friends, even if only half believing that his influence would
+prevent Mary Tudor from contracting an alien marriage, had been in
+constant attendance on the Queen.
+
+Ursula, on the other hand, had been relegated into the background. She
+knew this well and chafed at the restraint. Something seemed to tell her
+that if she could but see the Duke he would easily realize that it would
+not be very hard to fulfil the old earl's promise. She knew that she was
+beautiful, her own mirror and the admiration of the Court gallants had
+already told her that, and at the same time she felt within herself a
+magnetism which must inevitably draw him towards her.
+
+But time was speeding on. Ursula's quick intelligence had very soon
+grasped the threads of the present political situation, whilst Mary
+Tudor, on the other hand, made no secret of her love for Wessex. The
+young girl was well aware of the many intrigues which were being hatched
+round the personality of the man whom she looked upon as her affianced
+husband, and guessed how much these were aided by the enamoured Queen.
+
+His Eminence the Cardinal, the Duc de Noailles, Scheyfne, Don Miguel de
+Suarez, all were seeking to obtain a definite promise from Mary. The
+English faction, on the other hand, hoped to force the Duke into a
+marriage which was obviously distasteful to him.
+
+Ursula, in the midst of these contending parties, was, nevertheless,
+determined to gain her end. Too unsophisticated to attempt a serious
+intrigue, she relied on her woman's instinct to guide her to success.
+Her little plot to bring His Grace to her presence that afternoon had
+failed, probably owing to the Queen's keen acumen; and the young girl,
+for the first time since her arrival at Court, felt genuinely mortified
+and not a little despairing of ultimate triumph.
+
+The Duke, evidently, had no desire to meet her, or he would have
+accomplished that end somehow. There was not much that His Grace wished
+that did not sooner or later come to pass.
+
+Obviously, for the moment, he was glad enough to remain free of those
+bonds which truly were none of his making. Chivalry alone might tempt
+him to fulfil Lord Truro's dying wishes, for the late Earl and the
+Duke's own father had been the closest of friends. Ursula's pride,
+however, would not allow her to appeal to that chivalry; what she wanted
+was to gain his love.
+
+Out of her childish admiration for the boy had grown a kind of poetic
+interest in the man, more than fostered by the great popularity enjoyed
+by Wessex, and the praises of his personality sung on every side. Ursula
+was still too young to be in love with aught else save with love itself,
+with her own imaginative fancy, her own conception of what her future
+husband should be.
+
+He should be good to look at--like Wessex. High-born and gracious--like
+Wessex. A king among men, witty and accomplished--like Wessex.
+
+"Holy Virgin! let me have him for mine own!" was her constant, childish
+prayer.
+
+The girl was not yet a woman.
+
+Thus musing and meditating, she strolled out into the garden, singing as
+she went. All the maids-of-honour had been bidden to wait on Her Majesty
+in the audience chamber, save Lady Ursula Glynde and Mistress Margaret
+Cobham, whose services would not be required. The Duchess of Lincoln,
+shrewdly guessing from this summons that His Grace of Wessex was in the
+Queen's company, had given the two young maids leave to wander whither
+they pleased.
+
+Lazy Margaret had pleaded a headache and curled herself up in a
+window-embrasure with the express intention of doing nothing at all; but
+Ursula, with a burning desire for freedom and a longing for flowers,
+birds, and sunshine, had wandered out into the open.
+
+A parterre of marguerites was laid out close to the terrace. Mooning,
+dreaming, singing, she had picked a bunch of these and was mechanically
+plucking their snow-white petals one by one.
+
+Did she guess what a dainty picture she made, as she stood for one
+moment beside the pond, her shimmering gown of delicate white glistening
+against a background of dark green yews, her fair hair shining like gold
+beneath the soft rays of the October sun? Her sweet face was bent down,
+earnestly intent upon consulting the flowery oracle: a delicate shadow,
+that soft pearly grey tone beloved of Rubens, fell upon her girlish
+breast, her soft round arms, the dainty hands which held the marguerite.
+
+"He loves me," she said, half audibly, "a little . . . passionately
+. . . not at all. He loves me . . . a little. . . ."
+
+So wrapped up was she in these important rites, that she did not hear a
+muffled footstep upon the gravel. The next moment she felt two firm
+hands upon her waist, whilst a laughing voice completed the daisy's
+prophecy,--
+
+"Passionately!"
+
+She gave a little gasp, but did not immediately turn to look who the
+intruder was. Her woman's instinct had told her that, and then she
+knew--or guessed--the sound of his voice. The moment had come at last.
+It had been none of her seeking; she did not pause to think how it had
+all happened, she only felt that he was near her and that her life's
+happiness depended on whether he thought her fair.
+
+The pleasant little demon of girlish coquetry whispered to her that, in
+the midst of this poetic setting of an old-world garden, he would be
+hard to please indeed if he did not fall a victim to her smile.
+
+She turned and faced him.
+
+"Ah!" she said, with a little cry of feigned surprise, "His Grace of
+Wessex! . . . I . . . I vow you frightened me, my lord . . . I thought
+this part of the garden quite deserted, and . . . and the Duke of Wessex
+at the feet of the Queen."
+
+She looked divinely pretty as she stood there before him, a delicate,
+nervous little blush suffusing her young cheeks, her eyes veiled by a
+fringe of lashes slightly darker than her golden hair. As dainty a
+picture as this fastidious man had ever gazed upon.
+
+"At your feet, fair one," he replied, with undisguised admiration
+expressed in his every look, "and burning with jealousy at thought of
+him, for whose sake your sweet fingers plucked the petal of that
+marguerite."
+
+She still held the flower, half stripped of its petals; he put out his
+hand in order to take it from her, or perhaps merely for the sake of
+touching for one second the soft velvet of her own.
+
+Harry Plantagenet, close by, had stretched himself out lazily in the
+sun.
+
+"Oh!" said Ursula, a little confused, still a little shy and nervous,
+"that . . . that was for a favourite brother who is absent . . . and I
+wished to know if he had not forgotten me."
+
+"Impossible," he replied with deep conviction, "even for a brother."
+
+"Your Grace is pleased to flatter."
+
+"The truth spoken to one so fair must ever seem a flattery."
+
+"Your Grace. . . ."
+
+He loved to watch the colour come and go in her face, the dainty,
+girlish movements, simple and unaffected, that little curl which looked
+like living gold beside the small, shell-like ear. His passionate love
+for the beautiful was more than satiated at the exquisite picture before
+him, and then she had such a musical and tender voice; he had heard her
+singing just now.
+
+"But you seem to know me, fair one," he said after a while.
+
+"Who does not know His Grace of Wessex?" she responded, making a pretty
+curtsy.
+
+"Then let me be even with you, sweet singer, and tell me your name."
+
+Ursula darted a sudden shy look at him. Obviously he was conveying the
+truth; he did not know who she was.
+
+A quick thought crossed her mind; she looked demurely down her nose and
+said placidly,--
+
+"My name is Fanny."
+
+"Fanny?"
+
+"Yes . . . you do not like it?"
+
+"I didn't before," he said with a smile, "but now I adore it."
+
+"I am getting to like it better too," she added thoughtfully.
+
+"But, sweet Fanny, tell me how is it I never have seen you before."
+
+"Your Grace does not know all the ladies of the Court."
+
+"No! but I thought I knew all the pretty ones. Yet meseems that beauty
+was but an empty word now that I have seen its queen."
+
+"Ah, my lord! I fear me your reputation doth not wrong you after all!"
+she added with a quaint little sigh.
+
+"Why? What is my reputation?"
+
+"They call you fickle, and say the Duke of Wessex loves many women a
+little . . . but constantly, not at all."
+
+He came a step closer to her, and tried to meet her eyes.
+
+"Then will you let me prove them wrong?" he said with sudden
+seriousness, which perhaps then he could not himself have accounted for.
+
+"I? . . ." she said artlessly, "what must I do for that?"
+
+"Anything you like," he replied.
+
+"Nay, I have no power; for I fear me nothing short of putting Your Grace
+under lock and key would cure you of that fickleness."
+
+"Then put me under lock and key," he suggested gaily.
+
+"In an inaccessible tower?"
+
+"Wherever you please."
+
+She gave a merry, happy little laugh, for he was standing quite close to
+her now, his proud head slightly bent so that the quick, whispered words
+might easily reach her ears; and there was an unmistakable look of
+ardent admiration in his eyes. A demon of mischief suddenly seized her.
+She wondered whether he had guessed who she was and tried to nettle him
+into betraying himself.
+
+"And to whom shall I give the key of that tower?" she said demurely. "To
+the Lady Ursula Glynde?"
+
+"No," he replied. "Come inside and throw the key out of the window."
+
+"But the Lady Ursula?" she persisted.
+
+He made a quick gesture of mock impatience.
+
+"What wanton cruelty to mention that name now," he said, "when mine ears
+are tuned to 'Fanny.'"
+
+"Tis wrong they should be so tuned--Lady Ursula, they say, is your
+promised wife."
+
+"But I do not love her . . . never could love her whilst----
+
+"They say she is not ill-favoured."
+
+"Ill-favoured to me, like the bitter pills the medicine man gives us,
+whilst you----"
+
+Once more she interrupted him quickly.
+
+"You have never seen her," she protested, "you do not even know what she
+is like."
+
+"Nay, I can guess. The Glyndes are all alike--sandy, angular,
+large-footed. . . ."
+
+She laughed, a long, merry, rippling laugh which set his ears tingling
+with the desire to hear it once again. Ursula was indeed enjoying
+herself thoroughly.
+
+"They all have brown eyes," he continued gaily, "and just now I feel as
+if I could not endure brown eyes."
+
+She cast down her own, veiling them with her long lashes.
+
+"What eyes could Your Grace best endure for the moment?" she said, with
+the same tantalizing demureness.
+
+But something magnetic must have passed at that moment between these two
+young people, some subtle current from him to her, which forced the
+innocent young girl to raise her eyes almost against her will. He looked
+straight into their wonderful depths, and murmured softly,--
+
+"The very bluest of the blue, and yet so grey, that I should feel they
+must somehow be green. . . ."
+
+A little shudder had gone through her when first she met his ardent
+gaze; she tried to free herself from a sudden strange and delicious
+feeling of obsession, and said with somewhat forced merriment now:
+
+"The Queen has greenish eyes, and Lady Ursula's are grey."
+
+Then she held out the marguerite to him.
+
+"Would you like to know which you love best?" she added. "Consult the
+marguerite, and take one petal at a time."
+
+But he took the hand which held the flower.
+
+"One petal at a time," he whispered. He took the slender fingers and
+kissed each in its turn: "This the softest . . . that the whitest . . .
+all rose-tipped . . . and a feast for the gods. . . ."
+
+"My lord! . . ."
+
+"Now you are frowning--you are not angry?"
+
+"Very angry!"
+
+"I'll make amends," he said humbly.
+
+"How?"
+
+"Give me the other hand, and I'll show you."
+
+"Nay! I cannot do that, for we are told that the left hand must never
+know what the right hand doeth."
+
+"It shall not," he rejoined earnestly, "for I'll tell it a different
+tale."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Give me the hand and you shall know."
+
+Overhead in the green bosquets of yew a group of starlings began to
+twitter. The sun was just beginning to sink down in the west, throwing
+round the head of the fair young girl an aureole of gold. He stood
+watching her, happy in this the supreme moment of his life. A magic veil
+seemed to envelop him and her, shutting out all that portion of the
+world which was not poetic and beautiful; and she, the priestess of this
+exquisite new universe in which he had just entered, was smilingly
+holding out her dainty hand to him.
+
+He seized it, and a sudden wave of passion caused him to bend over it
+and to kiss its soft rosy palm.
+
+"Nay, my lord," she murmured, confused, "that Your Grace should think of
+such follies!"
+
+"Yet, when you look at me," he said, "I think of worse follies still."
+
+"Women say that there is no worse folly than to listen to His Grace of
+Wessex."
+
+"Do you think they are right?"
+
+"How can I tell?"
+
+"By listening to me for half an hour."
+
+"Here, in this garden?"
+
+"No! . . . there! . . . by the river. . . ."
+
+And he pointed beyond the enclosure of the garden, there where the soft
+evening breeze gently stirred the rushes in the stream.
+
+"Oh! . . . what would everybody say?" she exclaimed in mock alarm.
+
+"Nothing! envy of my good fortune would make them dumb."
+
+"But the Queen will be asking for you, and the Duchess of Lincoln
+wondering where I am."
+
+"They shall not find us . . . for we'll pull the boat beyond the reeds
+. . . just you and I alone . . . with the gloaming all round us . . .
+and the twitter of the birds when they go to rest. Shall we go? . . ."
+
+Her heart had already consented. His voice was low and persuasive, a
+strange earnestness seemed to vibrate through it, as he begged her to
+come with him.
+
+Slowly she began to walk by his side towards the stream. She seemed
+scarcely alive now, a being from another world wandering in the land of
+dreams. He said nothing more, for the world was too beautiful for
+speech. Youth, love, delight were coursing through his veins, and as he
+led the young girl towards the bank it seemed to him as if he were
+taking her away from this dull world of prose and humanity, far, far
+away through mysterious golden gates beyond the sunset, to a land where
+she would reign as queen.
+
+The river beckoned to them, and the soft, misty horizon seemed to call.
+The intoxicating odour of summer's dying roses filled the air, whilst in
+the distance across the stream a nightingale began to sing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE ULTIMATUM
+
+
+The envoy of His Holiness had departed.
+
+Mary Tudor had dismissed her ladies, for she wished to speak with the
+Cardinal de Moreno alone.
+
+Throughout the audience with the papal Nuncio, His Eminence had already
+seen the storm-clouds gathering thick and fast on the Queen's brow. His
+Grace of Wessex, gone to fetch a breviary left accidentally on the
+terrace-coping, had been gone half an hour, and moreover had not yet
+returned.
+
+Her Majesty had sent a page to request His Grace's presence. The page
+returned with the intimation that His Grace could not be found.
+
+Someone had spied him in the distance walking towards the river, in
+company with a lady dressed in white.
+
+Then the storm-clouds had burst.
+
+The Queen peremptorily ordered every one out of the room, then she
+turned with real Tudor-like fury upon His Eminence.
+
+"My lord Cardinal," she said in a quivering voice, which she did not
+even try to steady, "an you had your master's wishes at heart, you have
+indeed gone the wrong way to work."
+
+The Cardinal's keen grey eyes had watched Mary's growing wrath with much
+amusement. What was a woman's wrath to him? Nothing but an asset, an
+additional advantage in the political game which he was playing.
+
+Never for a moment did he depart, however, from his attitude of deepest
+respect, nor from his tone of suave urbanity.
+
+"I seem to have offended Your Majesty," he said gently; "unwittingly, I
+assure you. . . ."
+
+But Mary was in no mood to bandy polite words with the man who had
+played her this clever trick. She was angered with herself for having
+fallen into so clumsy a trap. A thousand suggestions now occurred to her
+of what she might have done to prevent the meeting between Wessex and
+Ursula, which the Cardinal had obviously planned.
+
+"Nay! masks off, I pray Your Eminence," she said, "that trick just now
+with your breviary . . . Own to it, man! . . . own to it . . . are you
+not proud to have tricked Mary Tudor so easily?"
+
+She was trembling with rage, yet looked nigh to bursting into tears. A
+shade almost of pity crossed His Eminence's cold and clever face. It
+seemed almost wantonly useless to have aided Fate in snatching a young
+and handsome lover from this ill-favoured, middle-aged woman.
+
+But the Cardinal never allowed worldly sentiments of any kind to
+interfere, for more than one or two seconds, with the object he had in
+view. The look of pity quickly faded from his eyes, giving place to the
+same mask of respectful deference.
+
+"My breviary?" he said blandly. "Nay! I am still at a loss to
+understand. . . . Ah, yes! I remember now. . . . I had left it on the
+balustrade. His Grace of Wessex, a pattern of chivalry, offered to fetch
+it for me, and----"
+
+"A fine scheme indeed, my lord," interrupted the Queen impatiently, "to
+send the Duke of Wessex courting after my waiting-maid."
+
+"The Duke of Wessex?" rejoined His Eminence with well-played
+astonishment. "Nay, methought I spied him just now in the distance,
+keeping the vows he once made to the Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+"I pray you do not repeat that silly fairy-tale. His Grace made no
+promise. 'Twas the Earl of Truro desired the marriage, and the Duke had
+half forgotten this, until Your Eminence chose to interfere."
+
+"Nay! but Your Majesty does me grave injustice. What have the amours of
+His Grace of Wessex to do with me, who am the envoy of His Most Catholic
+Majesty the King of Spain?"
+
+"'Twere wiser, certainly," retorted Mary coldly, "if the King of Spain's
+envoy did not concern himself with rousing the Queen of England's
+anger."
+
+His Eminence smiled as amiably, as unconcernedly as before. Throughout
+the length of a very distinguished career he had often been obliged to
+weather storms of royal wrath. He was none the worse for it, and knew
+how to let the floods of princely anger pass over his shrewd head,
+without losing grip of the ground on which he stood. Nothing ever
+ruffled him. Supremely conscious of his own dignity, justly proud of his
+position and attainments, he had, at the bottom of his heart, a complete
+contempt for those exalted puppets of his own political schemes. Mary
+Tudor, a weak and soured woman, an all-too-ready prey of her own
+passions, swayed hither and thither by her loves and by her hates, was
+nothing to this proud prince of the Church but a pawn in a European game
+of chess. It was for his deft fingers to move this pawn in the direction
+in which he list.
+
+"Nay," he said, with gentle suavity, "my only desire is to rouse in the
+heart of the Queen of England love for my royal master, the King of
+Spain. He is young and goodly to look at, a faithful and gallant
+gentleman, whom it will be difficult to lure from Your Grace's side,
+once you have deigned to allow him to kneel at your feet."
+
+"You speak, my lord, as if you were sure of my answer."
+
+"Sure is a momentous word, Your Majesty. But I hope----"
+
+"Nay! 'tis not yet done, remember," retorted Mary, with ever-increasing
+vehemence, "and if this trick of yours should succeed, if Wessex weds
+the Lady Ursula, then I _will_ send my answer to your master, and it
+shall be 'No!'"
+
+There was a quick, sudden flash in the Cardinal's eye, a look of
+astonishment, perhaps, at this unexpected phase of feminine jealousy. Be
+that as it may, it was quickly veiled by an expression of pronounced
+sarcasm.
+
+"As a trophy for the vanity of His Grace of Wessex?" he asked pointedly.
+
+"No!--merely as a revenge against your interference. So look to it, my
+lord Cardinal; the tangle in the skein was made by your hand. See that
+you unravel it, or you and the Spanish ambassador leave my Court
+to-morrow."
+
+With a curt nod of the head she dismissed him from her presence. He was
+far too shrewd to attempt another word just now. Perhaps for the first
+time in his life he felt somewhat baffled. He had allowed his own
+impatience to outrun his discretion--an unpardonable fault in a
+diplomatist. He blamed himself very severely for his attempt at
+brusquing Fate. Surely time and the Duke's own fastidious disposition
+would have parted him from Mary quite as readily as this sudden meeting
+with beautiful Lady Ursula.
+
+The Cardinal had withdrawn from the Queen's presence after an obeisance
+marked with deep respect. He wished to be alone to think over this new
+aspect of the situation. Through the tall bay windows of the Great Hall
+which he traversed, the last rays of the setting sun came slanting in.
+His Eminence glided along the smooth oak floors, his crimson robes
+making but a gentle frou-frou of sound behind him, a ghostlike,
+whispering accompaniment to his perturbed thoughts. Somehow the softness
+of the evening air lured him towards the terrace and the gardens. There
+lacked an hour yet to supper-time, and Mary Tudor was scarce likely to
+be in immediate need of His Eminence's company.
+
+He crossed the Clock Tower gates and soon found himself once more on the
+terrace. The gardens beyond looked tenderly poetic in the fast-gathering
+dusk. The Cardinal's shrewd eyes wandered restlessly over the parterres
+and bosquets, vainly endeavouring to spy the silhouettes of two young
+people, whom his diplomacy had brought together and whom his shrewd wit
+would have to part again.
+
+He descended the terrace steps and slowly walked towards the pond,
+where, but an hour ago, a sweet and poetic idyll had been enacted. There
+was nothing to mark the passage of a fair young dream, born this lovely
+October afternoon, save a few dead marguerites and the scattered flakes
+of their snow-white petals.
+
+The Cardinal's footsteps crushed them unheeded. He was thinking how best
+he could dispel that dream, which he himself had helped to call forth.
+
+"Woman! woman!" he sighed impatiently as he looked back upon the
+graceful outline of the Palace behind him, "thy moods are many and thy
+logic scant."
+
+"A tangled skein indeed," he mused, "which will take some unravelling.
+If Wessex weds the Lady Ursula, the Queen will say 'No' to Philip, out
+of revenge for my interference. She'll turn to Noailles mayhap and wed
+the Dauphin to spite me, or keep him and Scheyfne dangling on awhile
+whilst trying to reconquer the volatile Duke's allegiance. But if Wessex
+does not wed the Lady Ursula . . . what then? Will his friends prevail?
+Yet there's more obstinacy than indolence in his composition, I fancy,
+and the dubious position of King Consort would scarce suit his proud
+Grace. Still, if I do not succeed in parting those two young people whom
+my diplomacy hath brought together, then Mary Tudor sends me and the
+Spanish Ambassador back to Philip to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+AN ARMED TRUCE
+
+
+So intent was His Eminence in these complicated musings that he scarcely
+noticed how fast the shadows gathered round him. He had gradually
+wandered down towards the low wall which divided the Palace gardens from
+the river beyond.
+
+He had always been very partial to this remote portion of the grounds,
+for it was little frequented, and he felt that here at least in his
+lonely walks he could lay aside that mask of perpetual blandness which
+he was obliged to wear all day, whatever his moods might be.
+
+It was seldom that he met anybody when his footsteps led him thus far.
+Great was his astonishment therefore when he suddenly spied a figure
+leaning over the wall, evidently intent on prying into the darkness
+below.
+
+The Cardinal drew nearer and recognized Lord Everingham, the closest
+friend, the most intimate companion His Grace of Wessex was known to
+have.
+
+The young man had not heard His Eminence's footsteps on the sanded path;
+he started on hearing his name.
+
+"Ah! my lord Everingham," said the Cardinal lightly. "I little thought
+to see any one here. I myself am fond of communing with Nature in these
+gathering shadows; but you are a young man, there are gayer attractions
+for you within the Palace."
+
+It was too dark by now even for His Eminence's keen eyes to read the
+expression on Lord Everingham's face. The astute diplomatist, however,
+more than guessed what the young man's purpose was in thus scanning the
+river. His Grace of Wessex had not yet returned to the Palace, and it
+was generally known throughout the Court circle that Her Majesty was
+furious at his absence.
+
+The Cardinal's ruse in the early part of the afternoon had been the
+subject of universal gossip; sundry rumours had also been current that
+the Duke had been seen in the company of the Queen's most beautiful
+maid-of-honour.
+
+"Verily," thought His Eminence, "His Grace's partisans must be on
+tenterhooks. All along they must have dreaded this meeting, which chance
+and diplomacy has so unexpectedly brought about."
+
+Was not Wessex' position with regard to the Lady Ursula a peculiar one?
+Tied to her and yet free, affianced, yet not necessarily bound, his own
+attitude towards her was sure to be influenced by the girl's own
+personality.
+
+And every cavalier and diplomatist now at Hampton Court readily conceded
+that the daughter of the Earl of Truro was the most beautiful woman in
+England, and the most likely to captivate the roving fancy of His Grace.
+
+No wonder that my lord of Everingham was anxious for the Duke's return,
+before the Queen's access of pique and jealousy had found vent in sudden
+revenge. But the young Englishman had no desire to display this anxiety
+before his triumphant opponent.
+
+"Like your Eminence," he said carelessly, "I was lured into the garden
+by the softness of the air. The river looked so cool and placid, and
+'tis not often one can hear the nightingale in October."
+
+"Nay! your sudden fancy for the evening breeze is entirely my gain, my
+dear lord," rejoined the Cardinal in his most suave manner; "as a matter
+of fact I was, even at this moment, meditating how best I could secure
+an interview with you."
+
+"With me?"
+
+"Yes. Are you not His Grace of Wessex' most intimate friend?"
+
+"I have indeed that honour," replied Everingham stiffly, "but I do not
+quite understand how----"
+
+"How the matter concerns me?" interrupted His Eminence pleasantly. "An
+you will allow me, I can explain. Shall we walk along this path? I thank
+you," he added courteously, as the young man, after a moment's
+hesitation, turned to walk beside him.
+
+"Have I been misinformed," continued the Cardinal, "or is it a fact that
+your lordship is about to quit Hampton Court?"
+
+"Only for a very few weeks," rejoined Everingham. "Her Majesty has
+entrusted me with an amicable mission to the Queen Regent of Scotland. I
+start for town to-night on my way North."
+
+"Ah! then I am only just in time," said His Eminence.
+
+"In time for what?"
+
+"In time to correct what we poor mortals are all liable to make, my
+lord--an error."
+
+"Indeed!" said Everingham, with a touch of sarcasm. "Your Eminence must
+make so few."
+
+"Nay! but the error this time is none of my making, my lord. 'Tis you, I
+think, who look upon me as an enemy."
+
+"Oh! . . . your Eminence . . ." protested the young man.
+
+"Well, an antagonist, if you will. Confess that you thought--and still
+think--that I have been scheming to bring the Duke of Wessex to the feet
+of Lady Ursula Glynde, his promised wife."
+
+"A scheme in which Your Eminence succeeded over well, I fancy," retorted
+Everingham bitterly.
+
+"But that is where you are in error, my dear lord; for, believe me,
+that, at the present moment, my sole desire is to put an insuperable
+barrier between His Grace and that beautiful young lady."
+
+"Your sole desire, my lord?"
+
+As the night was dark Everingham could see nothing of His Eminence's
+expression of face. If he had, he probably would only have seen the same
+mask of polite blandness which the Cardinal usually wore.
+
+The young man, certes, was no match for these astute Spaniards, who had
+all the wiles and artifices of diplomacy at their finger-tips; his love
+for Wessex and the earnestness of his own political views gave him a
+certain amount of shrewdness, but even that shrewdness was at fault in
+the face of this extraordinary statement suddenly made by the Cardinal.
+
+"You are surprised?" commented His Eminence.
+
+"Boundlessly, I confess."
+
+"Ah! Diplomacy is full of surprises. But you are pleased?"
+
+Everingham, however, was not prepared to admit anything to this man,
+whose face he could not read, but whose tortuous ways he more than half
+mistrusted.
+
+"I hardly know how to understand Your Eminence," he said guardedly. "I
+need hardly say that my fondest hope was to see Queen Mary wedded to
+Wessex, for that is common knowledge. But since His Grace's meeting with
+the beautiful Lady Ursula, I fully expect to hear him declare his
+intention of keeping his troth to her."
+
+"You think her so very irresistible, then?--or His Grace so very
+susceptible?"
+
+"I think that the Duke has always kept at the back of his mind an idea
+that he was in some measure bound to Lady Ursula."
+
+"Let us add, my lord, that the charm and grace of the lady will
+inevitably tend to develop that idea. Eh?"
+
+"And that Your Eminence will probably triumph in consequence."
+
+"You, therefore, my lord, have by now set your heart on undoing what
+to-day's chance meeting may, perchance, have accomplished. By you I also
+mean your friends, the nobility and gentry of England, who would mourn
+to see His Grace wedded to Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+"Our loss will be your Eminence's gain, probably," rejoined Everingham
+with a sigh.
+
+The Cardinal waited a moment before he continued the conversation. He
+had deliberately sought this interchange of ideas. Openness and
+frankness in matters political were not usually a part of His Eminence's
+programme, but this evening he seemed desirous to gain this young
+Englishman's confidence.
+
+"But," he said after a while, with charming bonhomie, "but suppose that
+instead of gloating in the triumph which you, my lord, so readily
+prophesy--suppose that I were to ask you to let me help you--you and
+your friends--in parting the volatile Duke from his latest flame? . . .
+Would you accept my help?"
+
+"Your Eminence . . . I . . ." murmured Everingham, somewhat at a loss
+what to say.
+
+"You would wish to consult with your friends, eh?" continued the
+Cardinal placidly. "Lord Derby, Lord Bath, the Earl of Oxford--nay, the
+whole string of patriotic Englishmen who desire to see one of their own
+kind on the English throne, and naturally look upon me as a monster of
+artifice and vice."
+
+"Your Eminence . . ." protested Everingham.
+
+"Yet what are we but political antagonists, who can honour one another
+in private, whilst rending one another to pieces on the arena of public
+life? Do you not agree with me, my lord?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then why should you disdain my help, now that--momentarily--we have the
+same object in view?"
+
+"I am _hors de cause_, Your Eminence, as I have only the next few hours
+at my disposal. After that I go to Scotland."
+
+"Much may be done in a few hours, my lord, with an ounce of luck and a
+grain of tact."
+
+"But I do not understand why Your Eminence should be at one with me and
+my friends over this."
+
+The Cardinal smiled with gentle benevolence. Versed though he was in all
+the tricks and deceptions which were an integral part of his calling, no
+one knew better than he did the value of an occasional truth. With easy
+familiarity he linked his arm in that of his interlocutor.
+
+"Nay! your lordship mocks me," he said with a light sigh. "From your
+conversation I have already gathered that you and your friends suspect
+me of having brought about this unwelcome meeting 'twixt His Grace of
+Wessex and Lady Ursula Glynde. Is it not so?"
+
+"Marry . . ." began Everingham with some hesitation.
+
+"I pray you do not trouble to deny it. Let us admit that it is so. Do
+you not think then that Queen Mary will have a like suspicion as
+yourself?"
+
+"Probably."
+
+"And will, in consequence, turn the floods of her wrath on my innocent
+head. A woman angered is capable of anything, my lord. My position at
+this Court would become untenable. My mission probably would fail. Let
+us say that by endeavouring to part His Grace from the Lady Ursula, I
+would wish to give Her Majesty proof of the fact that I bore no part in
+their chance meeting."
+
+"I understand," rejoined Everingham, still vaguely suspicious of any
+ulterior motive lurking behind the Cardinal's apparent frankness, "but
+. . ."
+
+"Once His Grace is effectually parted from his new flame, the game will
+stand once more as it did before the unfortunate episode of this
+afternoon . . . unfortunate alike to your interests and to mine. Is that
+not so?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"I feel, therefore, that until then we ought to be . . . well! if not
+friends exactly . . . at least allies."
+
+"Only to resume hostilities again, Your Eminence?"
+
+"By all means."
+
+"Once His Grace has ceased to think of Lady Ursula, I and my party will
+once more work heart and soul to bring about the alliance of Wessex with
+the Queen."
+
+"And I to win the Queen's hand for Philip of Spain. Until then? . . ."
+
+"Armed truce, Your Eminence."
+
+"And you will accept my help? It may be worth having, you never can
+tell," quoth His Eminence with a sarcastic smile, which Everingham could
+not perceive in the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE VEILED WITCH
+
+
+Lord Everingham felt not a little perplexed. The Cardinal seemed bent on
+pressing his point, and on obtaining a definite promise of friendship,
+whilst the young man would have preferred to leave the matter _in statu
+quo_, a condition of open and avowed enmity.
+
+Moreover he would have wished to speak with some of his friends. Lord
+Sussex and the Earl of Oxford were staying at the Palace. Sir Henry
+Jerningham, Arundel, Cheyne, Paget, all hot partisans of Wessex, could
+easily be communicated with. In the meanwhile Everingham was racking his
+brain for the right word to say: the retort courteous, which would not
+hopelessly alienate His Eminence, if indeed he was seeking temporary
+friendship.
+
+Chance and a zealous night watchman put an abrupt end to Lord
+Everingham's perplexity; even when he was about to speak, a gruff voice
+which seemed to come right out of the darkness interrupted him with the
+well-known call--
+
+"Who goes there?"
+
+Almost immediately afterwards the strong light of a lanthorn was
+projected on the figure of the Cardinal.
+
+"How now, friend," quoth His Eminence presently, "art seeking for the
+truth with that lanthorn of thine?"
+
+But already the knave, having recognized the brilliant crimson robes and
+realized the high quality of their august wearer, had lost himself in a
+veritable maze of humble apologies.
+
+"I crave Your Eminence's merciful pardon," he stammered. "I did not
+think . . . I am on duty . . . I . . ."
+
+His thin, shrivelled form was scarce distinguishable in the gloom, only
+his old face, with large bottle-nose, and his pale, watery eyes appeared
+grotesque and quaint in the yellowish light of his lanthorn.
+
+"Then fulfil thy duties, friend," rejoined the Cardinal, who made it a
+point always to speak kindly and urbanely, even to the meanest lout.
+
+The man made a low obeisance and would have kissed His Eminence's hand,
+but the latter withdrew it gently.
+
+"Are there marauders about, friend watchman?" he condescended to ask, as
+the man prepared to go. "Thou dost not appear to be very strong, nor yet
+stoutly armed."
+
+"Your Eminence's pardon," replied the man, "'tis for a woman I am told
+to watch."
+
+"A woman?"
+
+"By Her Grace the Duchess of Lincoln's orders."
+
+"Ah!" remarked His Eminence, with sudden interest.
+
+"Mayhap some thief or vagrant, Your Eminence."
+
+"Aye, mayhap! Then go thy way, good watchman; we'll not hinder thee."
+
+Slowly the man shuffled off, dangling his lanthorn before him. The
+Cardinal watched the patch of brilliant light until it disappeared
+behind a projecting bosquet.
+
+His Eminence had been exceedingly thoughtful.
+
+"Know you aught of this, my lord?" he asked of Lord Everingham, who also
+seemed wrapped in meditation.
+
+"I suspect something of it," replied the young man slowly. "There is a
+story afloat--gossip, I thought it--that one of the Queen's
+maids-of-honour has been playing some curious pranks at night . . . and
+in disguise. . . ."
+
+"Indeed? Know you who the lady is?"
+
+"No! nor can I even guess. All the maids-of-honour are young and full of
+fun, and no doubt the girlish pranks were harmless enough, but Her
+Majesty is very austere and rigidly stern where questions of decorum are
+concerned."
+
+"So the Duchess of Lincoln, like a watchful dragon, would catch the fair
+miscreant _in flagrante delicto_, eh?" continued His Eminence.
+
+Mechanically he turned to walk along the path recently followed by the
+night watchman. His Eminence would have scorned the idea of any
+superstition influencing his precise, calculating mind, but,
+nevertheless, he had a strange belief in the guiding hand of Chance, and
+somehow at the present moment he had an unaccountable presentiment, that
+this gossip anent some young girl's frolic would in some way exercise an
+influence on his present schemes.
+
+As if in immediate answer to these very thoughts a woman's frightened
+scream was suddenly heard close by, followed by muttered curses in the
+watchman's gruff voice.
+
+"What was that?" exclaimed Everingham involuntarily.
+
+"The lady _in flagrante delicto_, meseems," rejoined the Cardinal
+quietly.
+
+And both men began to walk more rapidly in the direction whence had come
+the woman's scream. The next few moments brought them upon the scene,
+and soon in the gloom they distinguished the figure of the old watchman
+apparently struggling with a woman, whose head and shoulders were
+enveloped in some sort of veil or hood. The lanthorn, evidently
+violently thrown on the ground, had rolled down the path some little
+distance from this group.
+
+The woman was making obvious and frantic efforts to get away, whilst the
+old watchman exerted all his strength to keep tight hold of her wrists.
+
+"What is it to thee, man, what I am doing here?" the woman gasped in the
+midst of her struggles. "Let me go, I say!"
+
+She was evidently not very strong, for the old watchman, shrivelled and
+shrunken though he was, had already mastered her. She had lost her
+balance, and was soon down on her knees. With a vigorous wrench the man
+contrived to force her arms behind her back; he held them there with one
+hand, and with the other was groping in his wallet for a length of rope.
+
+"Not before thou hast given a good account of thyself before the Duchess
+of Lincoln, my wench!" he said, as he threw the rope round her shoulders
+and very dexterously contrived to pinion her arms behind her.
+
+"Her Grace?" she murmured contemptuously. "I have naught to do with Her
+Grace. . . . Let me go, man; thou hast no right to tie me thus."
+
+"Now then, my girl, get up, will ye? and come along quietly with me.
+. . . I'll not hurt ye . . . if ye come along quietly."
+
+The man helped her to struggle to her feet. Her veil or cloak had
+evidently fallen from her head, for the Cardinal and Lord Everingham,
+who were silently, and with no small measure of curiosity, watching the
+strange spectacle, caught the glint of a woman's face and of bright
+golden hair.
+
+The watchman was trying to lead her away towards the Palace.
+
+"Let me go, I tell thee," muttered the girl with persistent obstinacy.
+"I have important business here, and . . ."
+
+But the old man laughed derisively.
+
+"Important business? . . . and prithee with whom, wench?"
+
+"With the Duke of Wessex . . ." she retorted after a slight hesitation,
+"There! . . . now wilt let me go?"
+
+But the watchman laughed more immoderately than before.
+
+"Oho! . . . ho! ho! ho! that's a likely tale, my wench, there's many a
+young woman has business with His Grace, I'll warrant. . . . But thou'st
+best tell that tale to the Duchess of Lincoln first. . . . Business with
+the Duke of Wessex . . . ha! ha! ha! . . ."
+
+"My friend," here interposed a gentle, very urbane voice, "meseems thy
+zeal somewhat outruns thy discretion. If this child has indeed business
+with the Duke of Wessex, His Grace might prefer that thou shouldst keep
+a quieter tongue in thy head."
+
+The Cardinal, at sound of the Duke's name, had gradually drawn nearer to
+the group. Lord Everingham, impelled by the same natural curiosity, had
+followed him.
+
+"You would wish to speak with His Grace, child?" continued His Eminence
+with that same gentle benevolence which inspired an infinity of
+confidence in the unwary. "Do you know him?"
+
+The watchman, astonished, abashed, very highly perplexed at this
+unexpected interference, was rendered absolutely speechless. The girl
+had turned defiantly on her new interlocutor, whose outline she could
+but vaguely distinguish in the darkness.
+
+"What's it to you?" she retorted with obvious suspicion and mistrust.
+
+"Not much I own," replied the Cardinal with imperturbable kindliness; "I
+only thought that being alone and perhaps frightened you would be glad
+of some help."
+
+"Your Eminence . . ." stammered the watchman, who was trying to recover
+his speech.
+
+"Silence!" commanded His Eminence. "I wish to speak with this young
+woman alone."
+
+The worthy watchman had naught to do but to obey. There was no
+questioning an order given by so great a lord as the Cardinal de Moreno
+himself. The good man discreetly withdrew, His Eminence quietly waiting
+until he was out of earshot.
+
+"Now, child, have no fear," said the Cardinal gently. "Tell me . . . you
+wish to speak with the Duke of Wessex?"
+
+She turned resolutely towards him.
+
+"You'll take me to him?" she asked.
+
+"Perhaps," he replied.
+
+A great struggle must have been raging within her. Even through the
+gloom His Eminence could see her shoulders and breast working
+convulsively, whilst her breath came and went in quick, feverish gasps.
+
+"I have been watching in the gardens at night," she murmured at last;
+"for he is a great lord, and I dared not approach him by day. He saved
+my life . . . and I can read the stars. . . . I see that a great danger
+threatens him. . . .
+
+"Oh! I must warn him," she added in a sudden outburst of passionate
+vehemence. "I must go to him . . . I must."
+
+Lord Everingham tried to interpose, but His Eminence restrained him with
+a quick touch upon his arm. The Cardinal's hands were beautiful, white
+and caressing as those of a woman, delicately scented and be-ringed. He
+passed them gently over the girl's head, whilst he whispered softly--
+
+"So you shall, child . . . so you shall. . . . Then, tell me . . . His
+Grace saved your life, you say? and you are very grateful to him, of
+course . . . more than that, perhaps . . . you love him very dearly, eh?
+. . ."
+
+"What's that to you?" retorted the girl sullenly.
+
+Lord Everingham once more made as if he would interrupt this curious
+interrogatory. His loyalty to his friend rebelled against this prying
+into matters which might prove unpleasant for Wessex.
+
+That the girl was no Court lady out on some mad frolic was patent
+enough, whilst the passionate ring of her voice, when she mentioned the
+Duke's name, proved very clearly that she had seen him, and seeing him
+had perhaps learnt to love him.
+
+Who knows? Some secret intrigue, not altogether avowable, might lie at
+the bottom of this strange adventure. Everingham's heart misgave him at
+the thought that Wessex' most open enemy should perhaps learn a secret
+hitherto kept from all his friends.
+
+The girl, on the other hand, seemed willing to trust the Cardinal. She
+repeated doggedly once or twice--
+
+"You'll take me to him? . . . at once? . . ."
+
+"If I can," replied His Eminence, still very protecting, very suave and
+kind, "but not just now. . . . His Grace is with the Queen . . . you are
+too sensible and earnest, I feel sure, to wish to intrude upon him.
+. . . But will you not trust me a little while? . . . and I promise you
+that you shall see him."
+
+"Nay! I've nothing to lose by trusting you or any one," she replied. "If
+you do not take me to him, I'll find my way alone."
+
+"Come, that's brave independence. But, child, if I am to help you with
+His Grace of Wessex, I must at least know who you are."
+
+"They call me Mirrab."
+
+At sound of the name Everingham started. One or two vague recollections,
+in connection with the soothsayer of East Molesey Fair, seemed to be
+chasing one another in his mind, but he could not give them definite
+shape.
+
+A strange feeling, made up of uneasiness and shame, coupled with
+excitement and intense curiosity, caused him to go and pick up the
+watchman's lanthorn, which lay on the ground close by.
+
+When he was near the girl again he held it up, and the light fell full
+on her face.
+
+Then he remembered.
+
+It was Mirrab, the necromancer, the kitchen wench, used by a vulgar
+trickster to hoodwink some gullible burgesses and their dames at the
+village fair, but whom Nature had, in one of her unaccountable freaks,
+endowed with the same golden hair, the same exquisite features, the same
+deep and wonderful eyes, as the most beautiful woman at Mary Tudor's
+court, the Lady Ursula Glynde.
+
+The veil which usually enveloped Mirrab's head had fallen round her
+shoulders; her dress was of coarse woollen stuff, open at the neck and
+short in the sleeves; the arms and hands, rough and clumsy in shape,
+betrayed the girl's humble origin, and the likeness to Lady Ursula was
+confined to the face and hair. But it was there, nevertheless; quite
+unmistakable, even bewildering to the two men who were gazing,
+speechless, at this strange spectacle.
+
+Then Everingham put down the lanthorn. He dared not look at the
+Cardinal, half fearing, perhaps, that the wild thoughts and schemes
+which had suddenly arisen in his mind at sight of this extraordinary
+freak of nature should have already found more definite shape in His
+Eminence's astute and far-seeing brain.
+
+Strangely enough, at this moment, the practised diplomatist, the wily
+and unscrupulous Spaniard, met the more simple-souled Englishman on
+common ground, and at once felt sure of his co-operation.
+
+Both had the same end in view: a desire to break up any relationship
+which may have sprung up between the Duke of Wessex and the beautiful
+young girl, of whom this otherwise coarse wench was the perfect physical
+counterpart. But the Spaniard was the quicker in thought and in action.
+Whilst Everingham still vaguely wondered how the extraordinary
+resemblance might be utilized to gain that great end which he had in
+view, the Cardinal had already formed and matured a plan.
+
+He took the veil from Mirrab's shoulders and once more drew it over her
+head. Then he undid the clumsy knot with which the watchman had pinioned
+her hands. Mirrab remained perfectly passive the while; she seemed under
+the magic spell of the soft, velvety hands, which had, as it were, taken
+possession of her person.
+
+The two men had not exchanged one word since the light of the lanthorn
+had revealed the strange secret to them; they seemed to be acting in
+perfect accord. There was no longer any need for protestation of outward
+friendship, or for cementing the compact of temporary alliance.
+
+Everingham once more picked up the lanthorn and went in search of the
+watchman, in order to dismiss him with a word of command and to ensure
+his silence with a threat and a few silver coins. The man, of course,
+knew nothing of the importance of the event which he had unwittingly
+brought about. He may have vaguely wondered in his mind why His Eminence
+the Spanish Cardinal should take such a keen interest in a female
+vagrant, found trespassing on royal ground. But the few pieces of silver
+given to him by the noble lord, soon silenced even this transitory
+astonishment.
+
+Stolidly he resumed his nightly round, satisfied that he need no longer
+look for lurking thieves in the park.
+
+When Everingham, having seen the last of the watchman, returned to the
+spot where he had left His Eminence and Mirrab, he found that both had
+disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+PART III
+
+A GAME OF CHESS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE PAWNS
+
+
+The evening banquet had been anything but gay.
+
+The Queen, as was oft her wont, had hardly said a word. The Cardinal de
+Moreno looked thoughtful and His Grace of Wessex was singularly silent.
+
+Directly after supper Her Majesty retired to her own apartments,
+accompanied by her ladies, leaving behind her that desultory atmosphere
+of dull and purposeless conversation, which hangs round a supper table
+in the absence of the fair sex.
+
+The brilliant assembly broke up into small groups. The Earl of Pembroke
+and two or three other lords were leaving for Scotland towards midnight;
+their friends gathered round them to bid them God-speed. In the deep
+embrasure of the great bay His Grace of Wessex was in earnest conference
+with Lord Winchester and Sir William Drury, whilst at one end of the
+long centre table half a dozen young gallants were idling over a game of
+hazard.
+
+But there was a feeling of obsession in the air--a sense as if something
+momentous was about to happen. Whispered rumours, more or less
+conflicting, were afloat, yet nothing definite was known. On the other
+hand, idle, far-stretched gossip was rife and was even growing in
+extravagance as the evening wore on.
+
+No one had been present on the terrace to witness the little incident
+which occurred there earlier in the afternoon save the three
+distinguished actors in the brief comedy scene. Obviously from them
+nothing could be gleaned. The Queen and the Cardinal would not be like
+to enlighten the curious, whilst the Duke of Wessex, at all times
+reserved and unapproachable, could not be asked to give his version of
+the event.
+
+The foreign envoys had very soon followed the example set by Her Majesty
+and withdrawn from the circle, which seemed more hostile to them than
+usual to-night. The Cardinal de Moreno and the Marquis de Suarez were
+the first to go. They occupied the magnificent suite of chambers wherein
+ill-fated Wolsey had lived, schemed, and fallen. The more sumptuous
+series of rooms beyond--those built with lavish extravagance by King
+Henry VIII for his own personal use--had been placed at the disposal of
+His Grace of Wessex and his numerous retinue.
+
+Between the Duke's apartments and those allotted to the envoys of the
+King of Spain was the fine audience chamber, used by the Queen herself
+or by her more distinguished guests for the reception of important
+visitors. It was here that Lord Everingham, anxious, perturbed, vaguely
+ashamed of his own actions, had sought out the Cardinal de Moreno after
+the banquet and begged for an interview.
+
+His Eminence, suave, urbane, a veritable mirror of benevolence, had
+received him with a smile of welcome on his lips and a wealth of kindly
+reproach in his eyes.
+
+"Ah, my lord!" he said to the young man, as soon as the servants had
+withdrawn, "Nature, I fear me, hath not intended you for a diplomatist."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"This interview to-night, with me--was it necessary?"
+
+"I could not rest," said Everingham impulsively, "until----"
+
+"Until you had proclaimed it to the entire Court in general, and to His
+Grace of Wessex in particular, that you had a secret understanding with
+his political rival, the Spanish ambassador," rejoined His Eminence
+drily.
+
+"An interview . . ."
+
+"Have you ever honoured me thus before, my lord?--you or any of your
+friends?"
+
+"No . . . perhaps not . . . I only requested a brief _tete-a-tete_.
+. . ."
+
+"And had I refused that dangerous _tete-a-tete_, what would you have
+done?"
+
+"Demanded it," replied Everingham hotly. "I must know what has happened,
+and what you intend to do."
+
+His Eminence threw a quick look at the young man, a look half of pity,
+half of contempt. For a moment it seemed as if an angry retort hovered
+upon his lips. But he merely shrugged his shoulders and said blandly--
+
+"You are very expert at the game of chess, my lord, so they tell me."
+
+"I have played it a great many times," rejoined Everingham, a little
+astonished at the sudden transition.
+
+"Ah! and have become very proficient, I understand. Will you honour me
+by playing a game with me?"
+
+"Now?"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"The lateness of the hour . . . I start for Scotland almost directly."
+
+"Yet in spite of these difficulties you sought a casual interview with
+an avowed political enemy."
+
+"No one need know . . ." stammered the young man, slightly abashed.
+
+"Every one inside this Palace knows by now that my lord of Everingham,
+the intimate friend at His Grace of Wessex, is closeted alone with the
+envoy of His Majesty the King of Spain," rejoined His Eminence with
+slow emphasis. "Believe me, my lord, a game of chess is the wisest
+course."
+
+"Will you tell me first . . ."
+
+"I can tell your lordship nothing, except across the chess board."
+
+"Well! . . . since you wish it . . ."
+
+"My wishes have naught to do with this matter. I was following the most
+elementary dictates of prudence."
+
+He touched the handbell and rang. A liveried servant appeared.
+
+"Had I not told thee, sirrah," said His Eminence, "that my lord
+Everingham had kindly consented to give me my _revanche_ at chess ere he
+departed? How is it that the board has not been prepared?"
+
+"I crave Your Eminence's most humble pardon," protested the man in
+confusion. "I had not understood . . ."
+
+"Not understood?" laughed the Cardinal good-naturedly. "Marry! the knave
+doth impugn my knowledge of the English tongue."
+
+"I would not presume, Your Eminence . . ."
+
+"Tush, man! hold thy tongue and repair thy negligence. Where's the
+board? His lordship hath but an hour to spare."
+
+Everingham watched with ill-concealed impatience the elaborate
+preparations made for the game. He thought it quite unnecessary, and had
+he dared he would have refused to join in the senseless deception. But
+in this matter he had ceased to trust his own judgment, and, much
+against his will, was allowing the Cardinal to take the lead. He felt
+out of his own intellectual depths in this slough of intrigue wherein he
+had so impulsively ventured, and out of which he now felt incapable of
+extricating himself.
+
+Simple-minded and loyal to the core, he had a horror of any treachery
+against his friend. No other consideration would ever have prompted him
+to join in an underhand scheme with the Spanish Cardinal, save his own
+earnest faith in the ultimate good which would accrue therefrom, both to
+the country at large and to Wessex himself. With his whole heart and
+soul he believed that, at this moment, the Duke's marriage with Lady
+Ursula Glynde would be nothing short of a national calamity.
+
+Reluctantly, he sat down to the board at last. His Eminence, opposite to
+him, was shading his face with his delicate white hand, and at first
+seemed absorbed in the intricacies of the game. Two servitors were still
+busy about the room. One of them asked if His Eminence would desire more
+light.
+
+But the Cardinal preferred the fitful flicker of a few wax tapers. He
+liked the fantastic shadows which left the greater part of the vast
+chamber in gloom. Lord Everingham was a noted and very proficient
+player; His Eminence was enjoying the game thoroughly.
+
+"Check to your king, my lord Cardinal," said the young Englishman at
+last.
+
+"Only a temporary check, you see, my lord," rejoined His Eminence, as
+with slender, tapering fingers he moved one of the ivory pieces on the
+board. "By the help of this one little pawn, the safety of the whole
+combination is assured, and 'tis your knight now which is in serious
+danger."
+
+"Not serious, I think, Your Eminence, and once more check to your king."
+
+Even as he spoke the two servitors finally left the room, closing the
+heavy doors noiselessly behind them.
+
+"Oh!" said the Cardinal thoughtfully, "this will necessitate a bolder
+move on my part. You mark, my son," he added as soon as he had made a
+move, "how beautifully Nature herself plays into our hands: you and I
+desired to part His Grace of Wessex effectually and for ever from his
+beautiful affianced bride. Two hours ago this seemed impossible, and
+lo!--a girl comes across our path: low-born, brainless, probably a
+wanton, yet the very physical counterpart of virtuous Lady Ursula,
+and----"
+
+"Check," said Everingham drily, as he moved his castle.
+
+"Nay! nay! we'll once more move this little pawn," rejoined His
+Eminence, with his usual pleasant benevolence, "and see how simple the
+plan becomes."
+
+"'Tis of that plan I longed to hear."
+
+"So you shall, my son, so you shall," said the Cardinal very kindly.
+"What would you wish to know?"
+
+"The girl Mirrab?--Where is she?"
+
+"In Don Miguel de Suarez rooms, dressing herself in quaint finery,
+collected for the purpose by my faithful servant Pasquale, who has a
+valuable female friend in the Queen's own entourage. A silk kirtle, rich
+white robes, some fantastic ornaments for the hair, and the likeness
+'twixt our Mirrab and the high-born Lady Ursula will be more strangely
+apparent than ever. Your turn to move, my lord. I pray you do not lose
+the thread of this interesting game."
+
+"'Tis easy enough to lose oneself in the mazes of Your Eminence's
+diplomacy," quoth the young man anxiously. "Having dressed the girl up
+in all that finery, what do you propose to do?"
+
+His Eminence was silent for awhile; he seemed absorbed in an elaborate
+strategical combination, directed against his opponent's king. Then he
+moved his queen right across the board and said quietly--
+
+"What do I propose to do, my lord? Only, with the aid of that diplomacy
+which you English affect to despise, contrive that His Grace of Wessex
+should see a lady--whom he will naturally mistake for the Lady Ursula
+Glynde--in a highly compromising situation, and the love idyll begun
+this afternoon will abruptly end to-night."
+
+"But how?"
+
+"Ah, my lord! surely we must trust Chance a little. The fickle jade has
+served us well already."
+
+"I'll not allow a pure woman's reputation to be sullied by any dastardly
+trick . . ." began Everingham hotly.
+
+"Pray, my lord, what is your definition of a dastardly trick?" rejoined
+His Eminence suavely. "Is it the use made by a political opponent of
+every means, fair or foul, to accomplish his own aims, which he
+considers great and just? or is it the work of a friend--an intimate,
+confidential friend--joining issue for the like purpose? Nay, nay!
+understand me, my dear lord," he added, with an infinity of gentle
+kindliness expressed in the almost paternal tone of his voice, "'twas
+not I, remember, who ever thought to blame you. Your aims and ambitions
+are as selfless as mine own: for the moment our purpose is the same.
+Will you honour me by allowing me to show you the way of attaining that
+purpose, quickly and surely? I'll not ask you to lend me a hand. I would
+gladly have kept from you the knowledge of my own intricate diplomacy.
+Why should you fear for the Lady Ursula? Is her reputation in your eyes
+of greater moment than the success of your schemes?--yours and all your
+faction, remember."
+
+"Ah! there you have me, my lord," rejoined Everingham with a sigh. "All
+England is at one with us in a burning desire to see Wessex wedded to
+our Queen. But this is where your diplomacy escapes me. Once Wessex is
+turned away from the Lady Ursula, he will, we hope, naturally turn to
+the Queen, who loves him passionately, and . . . Check!" he added,
+moving one of his pieces.
+
+"Ah! you press me hard. Your lordship is a skilful player," said the
+Cardinal, intently studying the board. "As for me, you see I seem to
+move my pawns somewhat aimlessly. For the moment, I wish to part His
+Grace of Wessex from Lady Ursula . . . after that--we shall see."
+
+Everingham was silent. A truly bitter conflict was raging in his simple
+heart. Loyalty to his friend, love for his country, and an overwhelming
+anxiety for its welfare, cried out loudly within him. The very thought
+of meeting Wessex face to face at this moment was terrible to him, and
+yet he would not undo what he had already done, and would not thwart the
+Spaniard's tortuous schemes by betraying them to the Duke.
+
+The purpose which he had in view blinded him to everything save the hope
+of its ultimate achievement. At this moment he felt that, if Wessex
+shared Mary Tudor's throne with her, so much that was great and good
+would come to England thereby, that all petty considerations of
+temporary disloyalty, or the reputation of one innocent woman, would
+quickly vanish into insignificance.
+
+The very feelings of remorse and of shame which he was experiencing at
+this moment strengthened him in his faith, for he was suffering keenly
+and acutely to the very depths of his honest heart, and he imagined that
+he was earning a crown of martyrdom thereby; he believed that by
+trampling on his own prejudices and jeopardizing his friendship with the
+man he loved and honoured best in all the world, he was adding to the
+cause, which he held to be sacred, the additional lustre of
+self-sacrifice.
+
+His Eminence no doubt knew all this. With his intimate knowledge of the
+foibles of mankind, he found it an easy task enough to probe the inner
+thoughts of the transparent soul before him. He divined the young man's
+doubts and fears, the battle waged within him betwixt an abstruse
+political aim and his own upright nature. The game was continued in
+silence, Everingham's state of mind being revealed in the one bitter
+sigh--
+
+"Ah! I go away with a heavy heart, feeling that I have helped to commit
+a treachery."
+
+The Cardinal looked benevolently compassionate. At heart he was more
+than glad to think that this blundering Englishman would be well out of
+the way. Could he have foreseen the marvellous turn by which Fate meant
+to aid him in his intrigue, he would never have made overtures to so
+clumsy an ally as Lord Everingham. But at the time he had been driven
+into a corner through the furious jealousy of the Queen, who had
+well-nigh staggered him.
+
+His Eminence then did not know how to act. For the first time in his
+life he had been completely outwitted by the events which he himself had
+helped to bring about. They had shaped themselves in exact opposition to
+his keenest expectations. How to part Wessex from Lady Ursula, with whom
+his volatile Grace was probably by then more than half in love, became
+an almost insolvable problem.
+
+The Queen's ultimatum was almost a fiat. His Eminence saw himself and
+his retinue ignominiously quitting the English Court and
+returning--baffled, vanquished, humbled--to the throne of an infuriated
+monarch, who never forgave and always knew how to punish.
+
+In despair the Cardinal had turned to an ally. He knew that His Grace
+was quite inaccessible. Towards all the foreign ambassadors the Duke of
+Wessex was always ensconced behind a barrier of unbendable hauteur and
+of frigid reserve. It would have been impossible to attack the lady of
+his choice openly, and in offering his own help to Everingham His
+Eminence vaguely hoped to arrive at some half-hidden mystery, a secret
+perhaps in His Grace's life which would have helped him to strike in the
+dark.
+
+Then Fate interposed: exactly ten minutes too late, and when the
+Cardinal had already saddled himself with an over-scrupulous,
+vacillating, ultra-honest ally. He could not now throw him over without
+endangering the success of his own schemes, and therefore brought all
+his powers of dissimulation into play to effectually hide the impatience
+which he felt.
+
+The entrance of Don Miguel, Marquis de Suarez, created a diversion.
+
+"Ah, my dear Marquis," said His Eminence, with a sigh of relief, "your
+arrival is most opportune. I pray you help me to persuade Lord
+Everingham that we are not scheming black treachery against His Grace of
+Wessex."
+
+Don Miguel came forward, a smile of the keenest satisfaction upon his
+lips.
+
+"Why treachery?" he said lightly.
+
+But Everingham, having heard all that there was to know, was now in a
+hurry to depart. Having made up his mind to go through with his purpose
+to the end, he had but one wish--to turn his back upon the events which
+he had helped to bring about, and let them take their course.
+
+With it all he felt a keen antipathy for these two plotters who had
+drawn him into their net. Whilst acting in concert with these Spaniards,
+he had an overwhelming desire to insult them or throw his contempt in
+their smooth, clever faces.
+
+"Check and mate, my lord Cardinal," he said drily, as he took advantage
+of His Eminence's absence of mind to bring the game to a successful
+close. Then he rose to go. He was already booted and spurred for his
+journey northwards, and had unhitched his sword-belt when settling down
+to play. Whilst he was buckling it on again, Don Miguel approached him.
+
+"I entreat you, milor, do not talk of treachery," said the young
+Spaniard earnestly. "Believe me that in this matter, your conscience is
+over-sensitive. After all, what does His Eminence propose? Only this,
+that for a little while--a few days only perhaps--His Grace of Wessex
+should be led to believe, through the testimony of his own eyes, that
+the Lady Ursula Glynde is not altogether worthy to become Duchess of
+Wessex. The wench Mirrab will play her part unconsciously, and therefore
+to perfection. No one but His Grace shall be witness of the scene which
+we propose to enact, and though his disenchantment will be complete, do
+you think that he will greatly suffer thereby? Surely you do not imagine
+that he has fallen seriously in love with Lady Ursula in one hour: his
+own amour-propre will suffer a very transitory pang _et tout sera dit_."
+
+"The Duke of Wessex will never break his heart or quarrel with a friend
+for the sake of a woman," added the Cardinal in his smooth, gentle
+voice.
+
+"Like the bee, His Grace lingers over a flower only whilst he finds the
+perfume sweet," continued Don Miguel. "If he thinks the Lady Ursula
+false, he will turn to some other pretty maid with an indulgent smile
+for woman's frailty."
+
+All this sounded plausible enough, and Lord Everingham, at war with his
+own conscience, was only too willing to be persuaded that he was in no
+way wronging his friend. One scruple, however, still held him back and
+would not be denied.
+
+"There is one person in all this, my lord Marquis," he said, "whom I
+notice you and His Eminence scarce trouble to think about."
+
+"Who is that, milor?"
+
+"The Lady Ursula Glynde!"
+
+"Bah! What of her?"
+
+"A girl's reputation, my lord, is in England held to be sacred."
+
+"Why should her reputation suffer? Who will gossip of this affair? You?
+I'll not believe it! His Grace of Wessex?--perish the thought. Nay! to
+satisfy that over-sensitive conscience of yours, milor, may I remind
+you that you are not pledged to secrecy. If on your return from Scotland
+you find that the Lady Ursula's reputation has suffered in any way
+through the little scheme which we purpose, you will be at liberty to
+right the innocent and to confound the guilty. Is that not so, Your
+Eminence?"
+
+"You have said it, my son," replied the Cardinal.
+
+"Well, are you satisfied, milor?" queried Don Miguel, who at an
+impatient sign from the Cardinal was courteously leading Everingham
+towards the door.
+
+"I feel somewhat easier in my mind, perhaps," responded the young man.
+"I dare admit that His Eminence and yourself are more right in your
+surmises than I am. But I have the honour of calling His Grace of Wessex
+my friend, and I have an earnest wish in my heart that I could stay
+another twenty-four hours here, to see that no grievous harm come to him
+from all this."
+
+With a heavy sigh he finally took up his cloak and bade adieu to the two
+Spaniards.
+
+Don Miguel escorted him as far as the cloisters, until a servitor took
+charge of his lordship. Then he turned back to the audience chamber,
+where he found His Eminence sitting placidly in a high-backed arm-chair.
+
+"Marry! this was the most unprofitable half-hour I have ever spent in my
+life," quoth the Cardinal with a half-smothered yawn, and speaking in
+his own native tongue. "These English are indeed impossible with their
+scruples and their conscience, their friendships and their prejudices.
+Carramba! what would become of Europe if such follies had to be pandered
+to?"
+
+"By the Mass! 'tis a mighty lucky chance which hath sent that blundering
+young fool to the frozen kingdom of Scotland to-night," rejoined Don
+Miguel with a laugh.
+
+"Chance, my son, is an obedient slave and a cruel mistress. Let us yoke
+her to our war-chariot whilst she seems amenable to our schemes. I'll
+now retire to chapel and read my breviary there until Her Majesty hath
+need of me for her evening orisons. Her curiosity will not allow her to
+dispense with my services to-night, though she showed me the cold
+shoulder throughout the banquet. There's a good deal which devolves upon
+you, my son. Seek out His Grace of Wessex as soon as you can for the
+special interview which we have planned. I pray you be light-hearted and
+natural. It should not be a difficult task for Don Miguel de Suarez to
+play the part of a young and callous reprobate. I, the while, will watch
+my opportunity, and will have our dramatic little scene well in
+rehearsal by the time the Duke retires to his own apartments. He must
+cross this audience chamber to reach them. . . . There shall be no
+garish light . . . only an open window and the moon if she will favour
+us. . . . One short glimpse at the wench shall be sufficient. . . . I
+will contrive that it be brief but decisive. . . . Your talk with His
+Grace will have paved the way. . . . I will contrive . . . Chance will
+aid me, but I _will_ contrive."
+
+The voice was changed. It was no longer suave now, but harsh and
+determined, cruel too in its slow, cold monotones. His Eminence paused
+awhile, then said more quietly--
+
+"What is the wench doing now?"
+
+"Gazing in wrapt admiration at her own face in the mirror," replied Don
+Miguel lightly, "and incessantly talking of the Duke of Wessex, whom she
+vows she will see before the dawn. She mutters a good deal about the
+stars, and some danger which she says threatens her dear lord. Ha! ha!
+ha!"
+
+His laugh sounded hoarse and bitter, and there was a glimmer of hatred
+in his deep-set, dark Spanish eyes. There was obviously no love lost
+here 'twixt His Grace and these schemers, for His Eminence's bland
+unctuousness looked just now as dangerous as the younger man's hate.
+
+"Does she talk intelligently?" asked the Cardinal.
+
+"Intelligently? No!" quoth Don Miguel. "Awhile ago she talked
+intelligibly enough, but three bumpers of heavy Spanish wine have addled
+her feeble wits by now. I doubt me but the wench was always half crazed.
+I thought so when I saw her in that booth, covered with tinsel and
+uttering ridiculous incantations."
+
+"She might prove dangerous too," remarked His Eminence softly.
+
+"To the man who thwarted her--yes!"
+
+"Then, if His Grace should find out the deception, and, mayhap, were
+none too lenient with her, she would . . ."
+
+He did not complete the sentence, and after a moment or two said
+blandly--
+
+"In either case, meseems, chance is bound to favour us. Our good
+Pasquale shall see that the wench is provided with a short dagger, eh?
+. . . of English make . . . and with unerring and . . . poisoned blade.
+. . . What? . . ."
+
+There was silence between the two men after that. The thought which now
+reigned in both their minds was too dark to be put into more precise
+words.
+
+Don Miguel took up a cloak, which was lying on a chair, and wrapped it
+round him. His Eminence drew a breviary from his pocket and settled
+himself more comfortably in the high-backed chair. Don Miguel turned to
+go, but at the door he paused and came back close to where the Cardinal
+was sitting. Then he said quietly--
+
+"Is Your Eminence prepared for _that_ eventuality too?"
+
+"We must always be prepared for any eventuality, my son," replied the
+Cardinal gently.
+
+Then he became absorbed in his breviary, whilst Don Miguel slowly
+strolled out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+DEPARTURE
+
+
+Everingham could not leave the Palace without bidding farewell to
+Wessex. For the first time in his life he wished to avoid his friend,
+yet feared to arouse suspicion, mistrust--what not? in the heart of the
+man whom he was so unwillingly helping to deceive. He half feared now
+the frank and searching eyes which had always rested on him with
+peculiar kindness and friendship; he almost dreaded having to grasp the
+slender, aristocratic hand, which had ever been extended to him in
+loyalty and truth.
+
+Nevertheless in his heart there was no desire to draw back. During his
+lengthy colloquy with His Eminence he had weighed all the consequences
+of his own actions; though misguided perhaps as to the means, led away
+by a stronger will than his own, his purpose was pure and his aim high;
+and though he had tortured his brain with conjectures and fears, he
+could not see any danger to Wessex in the intrigue devised against him.
+
+As for Lady Ursula, he swore to himself that no harm should ultimately
+come to her. She would be a tool, a necessary pawn in this game of
+cross-purposes, which had the freedom and greatness of England for its
+ultimate aim.
+
+With a firm step Everingham reached the Great Hall, where one by one the
+company was slowly dispersing. The Earl of Pembroke had gone to his
+rooms to prepare for the journey; his friends were ready in the
+Fountain Court to bid him a final farewell. Some of the younger men
+were still whispering in groups in various parts of the hall, whilst
+others were continuing their game of hazard.
+
+Everingham took a rapid look round. There, in the embrasure on the dais,
+Wessex was conversing with the Earl of Oxford, whilst faithful Harry
+Plantagenet lay calmly sleeping at his feet. The Duke's grave face
+lighted up at sight of his friend.
+
+"I thought I should have missed you," he said, grasping the young man
+warmly by the hand. "My lord of Oxford was just telling me that he
+thought you would be starting anon."
+
+"Should I have gone without your God-speed?"
+
+"I trust not indeed. But your game of chess, meseems, must have been
+very engrossing."
+
+Lord Everingham felt himself changing colour. Fortunately his back was
+to the light, and the Duke could not have seen the slight start of alarm
+which followed his simple remark. In a flash Everingham had realized how
+true had been His Eminence's conjecture. Wessex had already heard of the
+interview in the audience chamber. The game of chess had undoubtedly
+proved a useful explanation for so unusual an incident.
+
+"Oh! His Eminence is passionately fond of the game," rejoined Everingham
+as lightly as he could, "and I could not help but accede to his request
+for a final battle of skill with him, since probably I may not see him
+on my return."
+
+But he felt His Grace's earnest eyes fixed searchingly upon him. A wild
+longing seized him to throw off the mantle of diplomacy, which became
+him so ill, and to give a word of timely warning to his friend. The
+sight of the beautiful boarhound, so faithful, so watchful, at the feet
+of his master, became almost intolerable to his overwrought mind.
+Perhaps he would have spoken even now, at this eleventh hour, when from
+the court outside there came the sharp sound of bugle-call.
+
+Harry Plantagenet, roused from his light sleep, had pricked his ears.
+
+"I fear me 'tis to horse, friend," said Wessex, with a light tone of
+sadness, "Marry! it likes me not to see you depart. Harry Plantagenet
+and I will miss you sorely in this dull place, and I will miss your
+loyal hand amongst so many enemies."
+
+"Enemies, my dear lord!" protested Everingham warmly. "Look around this
+Great Hall at this moment. Now that the foreign ambassadors have
+departed, do you see aught but friends? Nay more, adherents, partisans,
+faithful subjects, an you choose," he added significantly.
+
+"Friends to-day," mused His Grace, "enemies perhaps to-morrow."
+
+"Impossible."
+
+"Even if . . . But by the Lord Harry, this is no time to talk of my
+affairs," rejoined Wessex light-heartedly. "Farewell, friends, and
+God-speed. . . . Harry, make your bow to the most loyal man in
+England--you'll not see his like until he return from Scotland. In your
+ear, my dear lord, I pray you be not astonished if when that happy
+eventuality occurs, you find me no longer a free man. Come, Harry, shall
+we bid him adieu at the gates?"
+
+He linked his arm in that of Everingham, the group of gentlemen parted
+to let him pass, then closed behind him, and followed him and his friend
+out of the hall. Every one was glad of a diversion from the oppressive
+atmosphere of the last few hours. Many murmured: "God bless Your Grace!"
+as he passed through the brilliant assembly exchanging a word, a merry
+jest with his friends, a courteous bow or gracious smile with the casual
+acquaintances.
+
+His popularity at this moment was at its height. Nothing would have
+caused greater joy in England than the announcement of his plighted
+troth to the Queen. Yet if these gentlemen, who so eagerly pressed round
+him as he escorted his dearest friend through the hall, had been gifted
+with the knowledge of their fellow-creatures' innermost thoughts, they
+might have read in His Grace's heart the opening chapters of a romance
+which would have changed their enthusiasm into bitter disappointment.
+They would have seen that in that heart, wherein they hoped to see their
+Queen enthroned, there now reigned a dainty image, that of a young girl
+dressed in shimmering white, with ruddy golden hair falling loosely
+about her shoulders, and deep, dark eyes, now blue, now grey, now
+inscrutably black, the mirrors of a pure, innocent, joyous soul within.
+
+As for Everingham, all his desire to warn Wessex had vanished with the
+latter's lightly spoken allusion to the incident of this afternoon. He
+was now only conscious of a desire to get away, and thus leave events to
+shape their course according to the dictates of my lord Cardinal.
+
+Everything was ready for the departure. The gentlemen who composed the
+mission sent by Mary Tudor to the Queen Regent of Scotland were
+proceeding to Edinburgh by water. They would ride to Greenwich to-night,
+then embark in the early dawn.
+
+The horses were pawing the ground impatiently; every one had assembled
+in the Fountain Court, which presented an animated and picturesque
+spectacle, with the crowd of servants and the numerous retinue which was
+to accompany the Earl of Pembroke to Scotland. A number of torch-bearers
+lent fantastic aspect to the scene, for a lively breeze had sprung up,
+blowing the fitful flames hither and thither, bringing into bold relief
+now the richly caparisoned steed of one of the noblemen, now the steel
+helmets of the military escort, anon throwing everything into deep,
+impenetrable shadow whilst touching with weird, red light some
+grotesque vane or leaden waterspout on the walls of the Palace.
+
+The Earl of Pembroke took a long farewell from His Grace of Wessex.
+Himself one of the most fervent adherents of the Duke, he was longing
+for a word, a promise however vague, that the much-desired alliance
+would indeed soon take place.
+
+Wessex lingered some time beside Everingham. He seemed strangely loath
+to part from his fondest friend just now. The crowd around him were
+chattering merrily, the young men feeling the usual, natural
+exhilaration of manhood at sight of this goodly cavalcade, and the sound
+of clattering arms, the champing of bits, and quick, sharp calls to
+assemble.
+
+Then, at a given moment, one of the bays of King Henry's presence
+chamber was thrown open, and the Queen herself appeared at the window. A
+shout of welcome was raised, such as could only come from faithful and
+loyal hearts.
+
+Mary was surrounded by some of her ladies. The strong light of the room
+was behind her, so that she appeared as a silhouette, dignified, rather
+stiff in her corseted panier of rich brocade, her head slightly bent
+forward as if in anxious search of some one in the crowd.
+
+"God bless our Queen," said the Duke of Wessex loudly, and the words
+were taken up again and again by two hundred lusty throats, gentlemen
+and servants all alike, and the cry echoed against the massive walls of
+old Hampton Court like a solemn prayer.
+
+Not a few voices then added: "God bless His Grace of Wessex!" The Queen
+had recognized the Duke's voice. When she heard this second cry, every
+one noticed that she pressed her hand to her heart, as if overcome with
+emotion. Then she waved an adieu from the window and hastily retired
+within.
+
+The signal for departure was given. A few belated gentlemen quickly
+sprang to the stirrup--Everingham being among the last. With a deafening
+noise of clattering steel the military escort led the way, the halberds
+gleaming like tongues of flame in the torchlight as the men-at-arms
+lowered them in order to pass through the gates.
+
+Then followed the Earl of Pembroke with Lord Everingham by his side, and
+the other gentlemen of the mission in close proximity. The retinue of
+servants and another detachment of men-at-arms completed the cortege.
+
+Some of the younger men followed the cavalcade on foot through the gate
+and thence across the Base Court, even as far as the bridge and beyond.
+The older ones, however, began to disperse. With a sigh, the Duke of
+Wessex called to his dog, who had followed the exciting proceedings with
+the keenest canine enthusiasm.
+
+"Ah, Harry, old friend!" he said with a tinge of sadness. "Why did not
+Providence fashion my Grace into some humbler personality? You and I
+would have been the happier, methinks."
+
+Harry Plantagenet yawned ostentatiously in acquiescence, then he
+blinked, and seemed to say, as if in echo of his master's thoughts--
+
+"Marry! but there are compensations, you know!"
+
+"Only since this afternoon!" commented His Grace under his breath, as he
+finally turned his steps in the direction of his own apartments.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE BLACK KNIGHT
+
+
+As the Duke of Wessex was crossing one of the large rooms of the wing
+which divides the old Fountain Court from the Cloister Green, he
+suddenly heard himself called by name.
+
+"Luck favours me indeed," said a voice from out the gloom. "His Grace of
+Wessex an I mistake not."
+
+At this hour of the evening these rooms were usually deserted, and left
+but dimly illumined by a few wax tapers placed in tall, many-armed
+candelabra, the flickering light of which failed to penetrate into the
+distant corners of the vast, panelled chambers. Wessex could only see
+the dim outline of a man coming towards him.
+
+"At your service, fair sir, whoever you may be," he responded lightly,
+"but by the Mass! meseems you must claim kinship with the feline species
+to be able to distinguish my unworthy self in the dark."
+
+"Nay! 'twas my wish which fathered my thoughts. I had hoped to meet Your
+Grace here, and was on the look out."
+
+"The Marquis de Suarez," rejoined Wessex, as the young Spaniard now came
+within the circle of light projected by the candelabra. "You wished to
+speak with me, sir?"
+
+"I would claim this privilege of Your Grace's courtesy."
+
+"Indeed, I am ever at your service," replied the Duke, not a little
+astonished at the request.
+
+Since his first meeting with Don Miguel at East Molesey Fair he had only
+exchanged a very few words with the Spaniard, and the latter seemed even
+to have purposely avoided him during the past few days. To this His
+Grace had paid no attention. The foreign envoys at present staying in
+the Palace were exceedingly antipathetic to him, and beyond the social
+amenities of Court life he had held no intercourse with any of them.
+
+Rivals all of them, they nevertheless joined issue with one another in
+their hostile attitude towards the man, who was the formidable
+stumbling-block to all their diplomatic intrigues.
+
+The Duke himself, in spite of his haughty aloofness from party politics,
+knew full well how great was the enmity which his personality aroused in
+the minds of all the strangers at Mary's court.
+
+He was certainly much more amused than disturbed by this generally
+hostile attitude towards himself, and many a time did the various
+ambassadors have to suffer, with seeming good-nature, the pointed and
+caustic shafts aimed at them by His Grace's ready wit.
+
+No wonder, therefore, that Wessex looked with some suspicion on this
+sudden change of front on the part of one of his most avowed
+antagonists.
+
+"How can I have the honour of serving an envoy of the King of Spain?" he
+continued lightly.
+
+But Don Miguel appeared in no hurry to speak. His manner seemed to have
+completely altered. As a rule he was a perfect model of self-possession
+and easy confidence, with just a reflection of his distinguished
+chief's, the Cardinal's, own suavity of manner apparent in all his ways.
+Now he was obviously ill at ease, shy and nervous, and with a marked
+desire to be frank, yet too bashful to give vent to so boyish an
+outburst.
+
+There was in his dark eyes, too, a look almost of appeal towards the
+Duke to meet his sudden access of friendliness half-way. All this Wessex
+had already noticed with the one quick glance which he cast at the young
+Spaniard. He motioned him to a chair and himself leant lightly against
+the edge of the table.
+
+Don Miguel took this to be an encouragement to proceed.
+
+"Firstly, your Grace's pardon if I should unwillingly transgress," he
+began.
+
+"My pardon?" rejoined the Duke, much amused at the Marquis' obvious
+embarrassment. "'Tis yours already. But how transgress?"
+
+"By the asking of a question which Your Grace might deem indiscreet."
+
+"Nay, my lord," quoth the Duke gaily, "no question need be indiscreet,
+though answers often are."
+
+"Your Grace is pleased to laugh . . . but in this case . . . I . . .
+that is . . . I hardly know how to put it . . . yet I would assure Your
+Grace . . ."
+
+"By Our Lady, man!" cried Wessex with a slight show of impatience,
+"assure me no assurances, but tell me what you wish to say."
+
+"Well then! since I have Your Grace's leave. . . . My object is this.
+. . . Court gossip has it that you are affianced to the Lady Ursula
+Glynde."
+
+The Duke did not reply. Don Miguel looked up and saw a quaint smile
+hovering round His Grace's lips. The young Spaniard, though an earnest
+and even proficient reader of other men's thoughts, did not quite
+understand the meaning of that smile: it seemed wistful yet triumphant,
+full of gaiety and yet with a suspicion of that strange and delicious
+melancholy, which is never quite inseparable from a great happiness.
+
+But as he seemingly was meeting with no rebuff, the Marquis continued
+more boldly--
+
+"And . . . but Your Grace must really pardon me. . . . I hardly know
+how to put it so as not to appear impertinent . . . but 'tis also said
+that you do not wish to claim the lady's hand."
+
+"Marry! . . ." rejoined the Duke with a laugh. Then he paused, as if in
+the act of recalling his somewhat roving thoughts, and said more
+coldly--
+
+"You must pardon me, my lord, if I do not quite perceive in what manner
+this may concern you."
+
+"I pray Your Grace to have patience with me yet a while longer. I will
+explain my purpose directly. For the moment I will entreat you, an you
+will, to answer my question. It is a matter of serious moment to me, and
+you would render me eternally your debtor."
+
+None knew better in these days than did the high-born Spaniards, all the
+many little tricks of voice and gesture which go to make up the abstruse
+and difficult art of diplomacy. Don Miguel at this juncture looked so
+frank, so boyish, and withal so earnest, that the Duke of
+Wessex--himself the soul of truth and candour--never even suspected that
+the young man was but playing a part and enacting a scene, which he had
+rehearsed under the skilful management of His Eminence the Spanish
+Cardinal.
+
+Wessex, ever ready to see the merry side of life, ever ready for gaiety
+and brightness, felt completely disarmed, glad enough to lay aside the
+cold reserve which the foreign envoys themselves had called forth in
+him. He liked the Marquis under this new semblance of boyish
+guilelessness, and returned his tone of deferential frankness with one
+of easy familiarity.
+
+"The question, my lord, is somewhat difficult to answer," he said with
+mock seriousness, the while a gay laugh was dancing in his eyes. "You
+see, there are certain difficulties in the way. The Lady Ursula is a
+Glynde . . . and all the Glyndes have brown eyes. . . . Now at this
+moment I feel as if I could never love a brown eye again."
+
+"The Lady Ursula is very beautiful," rejoined the Spaniard.
+
+"Possibly--but you surprise me."
+
+"Your Grace has never seen her?"
+
+"Never, since she was out of her cradle."
+
+"I have the advantage of Your Grace, then."
+
+"You know her, my lord? . . ."
+
+"Intimately!" said Don Miguel, with what seemed an irresistible impulse.
+
+Then he checked his enthusiasm with a visible effort, and stammered with
+a return of his previous nervousness--
+
+"That is . . . I . . ."
+
+"Yes?" queried the Duke.
+
+"That is the purport of my importunity, my lord," said the young man,
+springing to his feet and speaking once more in tones of noble candour.
+"I would have asked Your Grace that, since you do not know the Lady
+Ursula, since you have no wish to claim her hand, if some one else
+. . ."
+
+"If the Lady Ursula honoured some one else than my unworthy self. . . .
+Is that your meaning, my lord?" queried Wessex, as Don Miguel had made a
+slight pause in his impetuous speech.
+
+"If I . . ."
+
+"You, my lord?"
+
+"I would wish to know if I should be offending Your Grace?"
+
+"Offending me?" cried Wessex joyfully. "Nay, my lord, why were you so
+long in telling me this gladsome news? . . . Offending me? . . . you
+have succeeded in taking a load from my conscience, my dear Marquis. So
+you love the Lady Ursula Glynde? . . . Ye heavens! what a number of
+circumlocutions to arrive at this simple little fact! You love her . . .
+she is very beautiful . . . and she loves you. Where did you first see
+her, my lord?"
+
+"At East Molesey Fair. . . . Your Grace intervened . . . you must
+remember!"
+
+"Most inopportunely, meseems. I must indeed crave your pardon. And since
+then?"
+
+"The acquaintanceship, perhaps somewhat unpleasantly begun, has ripened
+into . . . friendship."
+
+"And thence into love! Nay, you have my heartiest congratulations, my
+lord. The Glyndes are famous for their virtue, and since the Lady Ursula
+is beautiful, why! your Court will indeed be graced by such a pattern of
+English womanhood."
+
+"Oh!" said the Spaniard, with a quick gesture of deprecation.
+
+"Nay! you must have no fear, my lord. Since you have honoured me by
+consulting my feelings in the matter, it shall be my pride and my
+delight to further your cause, and that of the Lady Ursula . . . if
+indeed she will deign to express her wishes to me. . . . I hereby give
+you a gentleman's word of honour that I consider the promise, which she
+made to her father in her childhood, in no way binding upon her now.
+. . . As for the future, I swear that I will obtain Her Majesty's
+consent to your immediate marriage."
+
+"Nay! I pray you, not so fast!" laughed Don Miguel lightly. "Neither the
+Lady Ursula nor I have need of Her Majesty's consent. . . ."
+
+"But methought----"
+
+"'Twas not I who spoke of marriage, remember!"
+
+"Then you have completely bewildered me, my lord," rejoined Wessex with
+a sudden frown. "I understood----"
+
+"That I am the proudest of men, certainly," quoth Don Miguel with a
+sarcastic curl of his sensual lip, "but 'twas Your Grace who spoke of
+the lady's virtue. I merely wished to know if I should be offending
+Your Grace if . . ."
+
+He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. The laugh grated unpleasantly on
+Wessex' ear, and the gesture savoured of impertinence. The Marquis'
+manner had suddenly undergone a change, which caused the Duke's every
+nerve to tingle.
+
+"If what?" he queried curtly. "The devil! sir, cannot you say what you
+do mean?"
+
+"Why should I," replied the Spaniard, "since your Grace has already
+guessed? You will own that I have acted _en galant homme_, by thinking
+of your wishes. You will not surely desire to champion that much-vaunted
+virtue of the Glyndes."
+
+"Then what you mean, sir, is that . . ."
+
+"I cannot speak more plainly, my lord, for that among gentlemen is quite
+impossible. But rumours fly about quickly at Court, and I feared that
+Your Grace might have caught one, ere I had the chance of assuring you
+that I recognize the priority of your claim. But now you tell me that
+you have no further interest in the lady, so I am reassured. . . . We
+foreigners, you know, take passing pleasures more lightly than you
+serious-minded English . . . and if the lady be unattached . . . and
+more than willing . . . why should we play the part of Joseph? . . . a
+ridiculous role at best, eh, my lord? . . . and one, I think, which Your
+Grace would ever disdain to play. . . . As for me, I am quite reassured
+. . . Au revoir to Your Grace. . . ."
+
+And before Wessex had time to utter another word, Don Miguel, still
+laughing, went out of the room.
+
+The Duke felt a little bewildered. The conversation had gone through
+such a sudden transition, that at the time, he had hardly realized
+whether it touched him deeply or not.
+
+Owing to Ursula's girlish little ruse, he was totally unaware of her
+identity with the lady who had been the subject of this very distasteful
+discussion. To him Lady Ursula Glynde was both unknown and
+uninteresting. His meeting with beautiful, exquisite "Fanny" had driven
+all thoughts of other women from his mind.
+
+But with all his volatile disposition, where women were concerned, the
+Duke of Wessex was nevertheless imbued with a strong and romantic
+feeling of chivalry towards the entire sex, and Don Miguel's disdainful
+allusions to the lady who might have been Duchess of Wessex had left his
+finger-tips itching with the desire to throw his glove in the impudent
+rascal's face.
+
+Harry Plantagenet, who throughout the interview had openly expressed his
+disapproval of his master's interlocutor, gave an impatient little
+whine. He longed for the privacy of his own apartments, the warmth of
+the rugs laid out specially for him.
+
+"Harry, old friend!" said Wessex thoughtfully, "what the devil, think
+you, that young reprobate meant?"
+
+He took the dog's beautiful head between his hands and looked straight
+into the honest, faithful eyes of his dear and constant companion.
+
+"Marry!" he continued more lightly, "you may well look doubtful, you
+wise philosopher, for you know the Glyndes as well as I do. You remember
+old Lady Annabel, whose very look would stop your tail from wagging, and
+Charles, stodgy, silent, serious Charles, who never drank, never
+laughed, had probably never seen a woman's ankle in his life. And then
+the Lady Ursula . . . a Glynde . . . do you mind me, old Harry? . . .
+therefore as ugly, as a combination of virtue and Scotch descent can
+make any woman. . . . Yet, if I caught the rascal's meaning, neither
+Scotch descent nor ill looks have proved a shield for the lady's virtue!
+. . . Well, 'tis no business of ours, is it, old Harry? Let us live and
+let live. . . . Perhaps Lady Ursula is not ugly . . . perchance that
+unpleasant-looking Spaniard doth truly love her . . . and who are we,
+Harry, you and I, that we should prove censorious? Let us to our
+apartments, friend, and meditate on woman's frailty and on our own . . .
+especially on our own . . . we are mere male creatures, and women are so
+adorable! even when they bristle with virtues like a hedgehog . . . but
+like him too, are cushioned beneath those bristles with a hundred
+charming, fascinating sins. . . . Come along, friend, and let us
+meditate why sin . . . sin of a certain type, remember, should be so
+enchantingly tempting."
+
+Harry Plantagenet was a philosopher. He had seen his master in this kind
+of mood before. He wagged his tail as if to express his approval of the
+broad principles thus submitted for his consideration, but at the same
+time he showed a distinct desire that his master should talk less and
+come more speedily to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE WHITE QUEEN
+
+
+Wessex after a while was ready enough to dismiss the unpleasant subject.
+Perhaps he had no right to be censorious or to resent the Spaniard's
+somewhat unusual attitude. In England, undoubtedly, a gentleman would
+never--except under very special circumstances--allude to any passing
+liaison he might have with a lady of his own rank. That was a strict
+code of honour which had existed from time immemorial, even in the days
+of King Harry's youth, when the virtue of high-born women had been but
+little thought of.
+
+Abroad, perhaps, it was different. Spaniards, just then, were noted for
+the light way in which they regarded the favours of the fair sex, and
+Don Miguel's code of honour had evidently prompted him to consult
+Wessex' wishes in the matter of his own intrigue. Loyalty to their own
+sex is perhaps, on the whole, more general in men than is their chivalry
+towards women, and perhaps the Marquis' feelings would have revolted at
+the thought of seeing a lady of such light virtue in the position of
+Duchess of Wessex.
+
+Be that as it may, His Grace had no wish to probe the matter further;
+with a shrug of the shoulders he dismissed it from his thoughts, whilst
+registering a vow to chastise the young blackguard if his impertinence
+showed signs of recurrence.
+
+He was on the point of yielding to his faithful Harry's canine appeals
+by allowing him to lead the way towards his own distant lodgings, when
+his ear suddenly caught the sound of a silk dress rustling somewhere,
+not far from where he stood.
+
+At the end of the room closest to him, a few steps led up to a gallery,
+which ran along the wall, finally abutting at a door, which gave access
+to the Duchess of Lincoln's and other ladies' lodgings. The rustle of a
+silk skirt seemed to come from there.
+
+Perhaps Wessex would not have taken notice of it, except that his every
+thought was filled with a strange excitement since the rencontre of the
+afternoon. At times now he felt as if his very senses ached with the
+longing to see once more that entrancing, girlish figure, dressed all in
+white and crowned with the halo of her exquisite golden hair, to hear
+once more the sound of that fresh young voice, that merry, childlike
+laugh, through which there vibrated the thrill of a newly awakened
+passion.
+
+Since he had met her he was conscious of a wonderful change in himself.
+He did not even analyse his feelings: he knew that he loved her now:
+that, in a sense, he had always loved her, for his poetic and romantic
+temperament had ever been in search of that perfect type of womanhood,
+which she seemed so completely to embody in herself.
+
+He had only spoken to her for about half an hour, then had sat opposite
+to her in a boat among the reeds, in the cool of the afternoon, with the
+lazy river gently rocking the light skiff, and the water birds for sole
+witnesses of his happiness. They had hardly exchanged a word then, for
+he had enjoyed the delight--dear to every man who loves--of watching the
+blushes come and go upon her cheek in response to his ardent gaze. What
+did words matter? the music in their souls supplied all that they wished
+to say.
+
+And he--who had been deemed so fickle, who had made of love a pastime,
+taking what joys women would give him with a grateful yet transient
+smile, His Grace of Wessex, in fact, who had loved so often yet so
+inconstantly--knew now that the stern little god, who will not for long
+brook defiance of his laws, had wounded him for life or death at last.
+
+And even now, when he heard the rustle of a kirtle, he paused
+instinctively, vaguely, madly hoping that chance, and the great wild
+longing which was in him, had indeed drawn her footsteps hither.
+
+The door above, at the end of the gallery, was tentatively opened.
+Wessex could see nothing, for those distant corners of the room were in
+complete darkness, but he heard a voice, low and sweet, humming the
+little ditty which she, his queen, had sung this afternoon.
+
+   "Disdaine me not that am your own,
+    Refuse me not that am so true,
+    Mistrust me not till all be knowen,
+    Forsake me not now for no new."
+
+She walked slowly along the gallery, and paused not far from the top of
+the short flight of oak steps. She seemed to be hesitating a little, as
+if afraid to venture farther into the large, dimly lighted hall.
+
+The flicker of the tall wax tapers now caught her dainty figure, casting
+golden lights and deep, ruddy shadows on her fair young face and on the
+whiteness of her gown. In her arms she held an enormous sheaf of pale
+pink monthly roses, the spoils of the garden, lavish in its autumnal
+glory.
+
+Never had Wessex--fastidious, fickle, insouciant Wessex--seen anything
+more radiant, more exquisite, more poetic than this apparition which
+came towards him like the realization of all his maddest dreams.
+
+For one moment more he lingered, his ardent, passionate soul was loath
+to give up these heaven-born seconds spent in looking at her. Her eyes
+shone darkly in the gleam of the candle light and had wondrous
+reflections in them, which looked ruddy and hot; her delicately
+chiselled features were suffused with a strange glow, which seemed to
+come from within; and her lips were slightly parted, moist and red like
+some ripe summer fruit. From her whole person there came an exhalation
+of youth and womanhood, of purity and soul-stirring passion.
+
+"Come down, sweet singer," said Wessex to her at last.
+
+She gave a startled little cry, leant over the balustrade, and the sheaf
+of flowers dropped from her arms, falling in a long cascade of leaves
+and blossoms, rose-coloured and sweet-scented, at his feet.
+
+"Ah, Your Grace frightened me!" she whispered, with just a touch of
+feminine coquetry. "I . . . I . . . didn't know you were here."
+
+"I swear you did not, sweet saint . . . but now . . . as I am here . . .
+come down quickly ere I perish with longing for a nearer sight of your
+dear eyes."
+
+"But my flowers," she said, with a sudden access of timidity, brought
+forth by the thrilling ardour of his voice. "I had picked them for Her
+Majesty's oratory."
+
+"Nay! let them all wither save one . . . which I will take from your
+hand. Come down. . . ."
+
+One of the roses had remained fixed in the stiff fold of her panier. She
+took it between her fingers and sighed.
+
+"Oh! I dare not," she said sadly. "Your Grace does not know,--cannot
+guess, what dire disgrace would befall me if I did."
+
+"Perish the thought of disgrace," rejoined Wessex gaily. "Marry! the
+saints in Paradise must come down from heaven sometimes, else the world
+would be consumed by its own wickedness. Come down," he added more
+earnestly, seized with a mad, ungovernable desire to clasp her to his
+heart, "come down, or I swear that I'll bring you down in my arms."
+
+"No . . . no . . . no!" she protested, alarmed at his vehemence. "I'll
+come down."
+
+With a quaintly mischievous gesture she flung the rose at him; it hit
+him in the face, then fell; he had perforce to stoop in order to pick it
+up. When he once more straightened his tall figure she was standing
+quite close to him.
+
+There she was, just as he had always thought of her, even as a boy when
+first he began to dream. She, the perfect woman whom one day he would
+meet, and on that day would love wholly, passionately, humbly, and
+proudly, his own and yet his queen; she the most perfect product of
+Nature, with just that tone of gold in her hair, just those eyes, so
+inscrutable, so full of colour, so infinite in their variety; not very
+tall, but graceful and slender, with her dainty head on a level with his
+shoulder, her fair young forehead on a level with his lips.
+
+Now that she was so near, he was as if turned to stone. The wild longing
+was still in him to clasp her in his arms, to hold her closely, tenderly
+to his heart, yet he would not have touched her for a kingdom.
+
+But as he looked at her he knew that she, herself, would come to him in
+all her purity, her innocence . . . soon . . . to-day perhaps . . . but
+certainly one day . . . and that she would come with every fibre in her
+entire being vibrating in responsive passion to him.
+
+She looked up at him shyly, tentatively. His very soul went out to her
+as he returned her gaze. A great and glorious exultation thrilled every
+fibre of her being. She knew that she had conquered, that the love which
+in her girlish heart she had kept for him had borne fruit a
+thousandfold. Her heart seemed to stop beating at the immensity of her
+happiness.
+
+But woman-like, she was more self-possessed than he was.
+
+"I must not stay," she said gravely and with only an imperceptible
+quiver in her voice. "I am in disgrace, you know . . . for that stroll
+on the river . . . with you . . . this afternoon."
+
+"Why? what happened?" he asked with a smile.
+
+She held up her little hand and counted on her fingers.
+
+"Number one, a frown and a colder shoulder from Her Majesty! Two, a
+lecture from Her Grace of Lincoln! Twenty minutes! Three, four, and
+five, pin-pricks from the ladies and a lonely supper in my room
+to-night."
+
+He loved her in this gayer mood which made her seem so young and
+childlike.
+
+"Could you not have contrived to let me know?"
+
+"Why? . . . What would you have done?"
+
+"Made it less lonely for you."
+
+"You are doing that now. I thought I should be alone the rest of the
+evening. Her Grace of Lincoln and the others are at prayers with Her
+Majesty. I was confined to that room up there. How is it Your Grace
+happened to be in this hall just when I came out?"
+
+"A moth is always to be found where the light happens to be," he replied
+gravely.
+
+"But how did you know I should be here?"
+
+"My eyes, since this afternoon, see you constantly where you are
+not--how could they fail to see you where you are?"
+
+"Then, as Your Grace has seen me . . ." she added with timid
+nervousness, seeing that he now stood between her and the steps, "will
+you allow me to go up again?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I entreat!" she pleaded.
+
+"Impossible."
+
+"Her Grace of Lincoln will be looking for me."
+
+"Then stay here with me until she does."
+
+"What to do?" she queried innocently.
+
+"To make me happy."
+
+"Happy?" she laughed merrily. "Ho! ho! ho! How can I, a humble
+waiting-maid, manage to make His Grace of Wessex happy?"
+
+"By letting me look at you."
+
+With quaint and artless coquetry she picked up the folds of her heavy
+brocaded paniers, right and left, with two delicate fingers, and
+executed a dainty pirouette in front of him.
+
+"There!" she said merrily, "'tis done. . . . And now?"
+
+"By letting me whisper to you . . ." he murmured.
+
+She drew back quickly, and said with mock severity--
+
+"That which I must not hear."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because Your Grace is not free," she rejoined archly. "Not free to
+whisper anything in any woman's ear, save in that of Lady Ursula
+Glynde."
+
+"Then you guessed what I would have whispered to you?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+She veiled the glory of her eyes with their fringe of dark lashes.
+
+"That you loved me . . ." she murmured, "for the moment. . . ."
+
+How irresistible she was, with just that soupcon of coquetry to whet the
+desire of this fastidious man of the world, and with it all so free from
+artifice, so young and fresh and pure:--a madonna, yet made to tempt
+mankind.
+
+"Nay! if you would let me, sweet saint, I would whisper in your tiny ear
+that I worship you!" he said in all sincerity and truth, and with the
+ring of an ardent passion in every tone of his voice.
+
+"Worship me? . . ." she queried in mock astonishment, "and Your Grace
+does not even know who I am."
+
+"Faith! but I do. You are the most beautiful woman on this earth."
+
+"Oh! . . . but my name! . . ."
+
+"Nay! as to that I care not . . . You shall tell it me anon, if you
+like. . . . For the moment I love to think of you as I first beheld you
+in the garden this afternoon--a fairy or sprite . . . I know not which
+. . . an angel mayhap . . . in your robes of white, surrounded with
+flowers and dark bosquets of hazelnut and of yew, with golden tints of
+ruddy autumn around you, less glorious than your hair. Let me worship
+blindly . . . fettered . . . your slave."
+
+She sighed, a quaint little sigh, which had a tinge of melancholy in it.
+
+"For how long?" she murmured.
+
+"For my whole life," he replied earnestly. "Will you not try me?"
+
+"How?"
+
+"You love me, sweet saint?"
+
+"I . . ." she began shyly.
+
+"Let me look into your eyes. . . . I will find my answer."
+
+Her arms dropped by her side, she looked up and met his eyes, ardent,
+burning with passion, fixed longingly upon her. He came close to her,
+quite close, his presence thrilled her; she closed her eyes in order to
+shut out from her innermost soul everything from the outside world, save
+the exquisite feeling of her newly awakened love.
+
+"Now, see how perverse I am," he whispered passionately. "I do not want
+you to tell me anything just now . . . open your eyes, dear saint . . .
+for I but want to stand like this . . . and read in their blue depths
+. . . enjoying every fraction of a second of this heavenly moment.
+. . ."
+
+She tried to speak, but instinctively he stopped her.
+
+"No . . . no . . . do not speak. . . . And yet . . . 'tis from your
+sweet lips I'd have my final answer."
+
+He took her in his arms. She lay against him, unresisting, her sweet
+face turned up to his, soul meeting soul at last in the ecstasy of a
+first kiss. He held her to his heart. It seemed as if he could never let
+her go from him again. Everything was forgotten, the world had ceased to
+be. For him there was but one woman on this earth, and she was his own.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+CHECK TO THE QUEEN
+
+
+How long they stood thus, heart to heart, they themselves could never
+have said. The sound of many voices in the near distance roused them
+from their dream. Ursula started in alarm.
+
+"Holy Virgin!" she exclaimed under her breath, "if it should be the
+Queen!"
+
+But Wessex held her tightly, and she struggled in vain.
+
+"Nay! then let the whole Court see that I hold my future wife in my
+arms," he said proudly.
+
+But with an agitated little cry she contrived to escape him. He seemed
+much amused at her nervousness; what had she to fear? was she not his
+own, to protect even from the semblance of ill? But Ursula, now fully
+awakened to ordinary, everyday surroundings, was fearful lest her own
+innocent little deception should be too crudely, too suddenly unmasked.
+
+She had so earnestly looked forward to the moment when she would say to
+him that she in sooth was none other than Lady Ursula Glynde, the woman
+whom every conventionality had decreed that he should marry, and
+whom--because of these conventionalities--he had secretly but certainly
+disliked.
+
+Her woman's heart had already given her a clear insight into the
+character and the foibles of the man she loved. His passion for her now,
+sincere and great though it was, was partly dependent on that atmosphere
+of romance which his poetical temperament craved for, and which had
+surrounded the half-mysterious personality of exquisite, irresistible
+"Fanny."
+
+Instinctively she dreaded the rough hand of commonplace, that ugly,
+coarse destroyer of poetic idylls. A few hastily uttered words might
+shatter in an hour the mystic shrine wherein Wessex had enthroned her.
+She had meant to tell him soon, to-morrow perhaps, perhaps only after a
+few days, but she wished to find her own time for this, when he knew her
+inner soul better, and the delicate cobwebs of this great
+love-at-first-sight had fallen away from his eyes.
+
+She could not altogether have explained to herself why a sudden
+disclosure of her identity at this moment would have been peculiarly
+unpleasant to her. It was a weak, childish feeling no doubt. But such as
+it was, it was real, and strong, and genuine.
+
+Barely a minute had elapsed whilst these quick thoughts and fears went
+wildly coursing through her mind. There was no time to tell him
+everything now. The voices came from the next room, within the next few
+seconds probably the great door would be open to admit a group of
+people: the Duchess of Lincoln and the ladies mayhap, or the Queen on
+her way to chapel. And His Grace of Wessex looked terribly determined.
+
+"No! no! no!--not just this moment, sweet Grace," she entreated, "by
+your love! not _just_ this moment. . . . The Queen would be so angry
+. . . oh! not _just_ now!"
+
+She looked so genuinely disturbed, and so tenderly appealing, that he
+could not help but obey.
+
+"But you cannot send me away like this," he urged. "Another word, sweet
+saint. . . . Faith! I could not live without another kiss. . . ."
+
+"No, no, no, I entreat Your Grace . . . not to-night," she protested
+feebly.
+
+He thought, however, that he detected a sign of yielding in her voice,
+although she was already beginning to mount the steps ready for flight.
+
+"Just one tiny word," he whispered hurriedly: "when the Queen has passed
+through, linger up there for one brief minute only. I'll wait in there!"
+
+And he pointed to a small door close behind him, which led to an inner
+closet at right angles with the gallery. Before she had time to
+protest--nay! perhaps she had no wish to refuse--he had disappeared
+behind its heavy panels, quickly calling to his dog to follow him. But
+in that one moment's hesitation, those few brief and delicious words
+hastily exchanged, she had lost her opportunity for escape.
+
+The next instant the door at the further end of the room was thrown
+open, and the Queen entered followed by some of her ladies. She was
+accompanied by the Duchess of Lincoln, and His Eminence the Cardinal de
+Moreno was on her left.
+
+As chance or ill-luck would have it, the first sight which greeted Her
+Majesty's eyes was the figure of Lady Ursula, midway up the steps which
+led to the gallery, some mysterious imp of mischief having contrived
+that the light from the wax tapers should unaccountably and very vividly
+fall upon the white-clad form of the young girl. An exclamation of stern
+reproval from Her Grace of Lincoln brought Ursula to a standstill.
+
+Flight now was no longer possible; she could but trust in her guardian
+angel, or in any of those protective genii who have in their keeping the
+special care of lovers in distress, and who happened to be hovering
+nigh.
+
+It was not seemly to be half-way up a flight of stairs when Her Majesty
+was standing on the floor below. Ursula, with her cheeks aflame with
+vexation, slowly descended, whilst encountering as boldly as she could
+the artillery fire of half a dozen pairs of eyes fixed steadily upon
+her.
+
+Mary Tudor looked coldly severe, Her Grace of Lincoln horror-struck, His
+Eminence ironical, and the ladies vastly amused.
+
+"Ah, child!" said Her Majesty, in her iciest tone of voice, "all alone,
+and in this part of the Palace?"
+
+She looked the dainty young figure disdainfully up and down, then her
+eye caught the sheaf of roses lying in a fragrant tangle close to the
+foot of the stairs. There was a quick flash of anger in her face, then a
+frown. Ursula wondered how much she guessed or what she suspected.
+
+But the Queen, after that one quick wave of passionate wrath, made an
+obvious effort to control herself. She turned composedly to the Duchess
+of Lincoln.
+
+"Your Grace is aware," she said drily, "that I deem it most indecorous
+for my maids-of-honour to wander about the Palace alone."
+
+The wrinkled old face of the kindly Duchess expressed the most heartfelt
+sorrow.
+
+"I crave Your Majesty's humble pardon . . ." she stammered in an agony
+of misery at this public reproof. "I . . ."
+
+"Nay, Duchess, I know the difficulty of your task," rejoined Mary Tudor
+bitingly, "the other ladies are docile, and their behaviour is maidenly
+and chaste. 'Tis not always so with the Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+Mary's voice had been so trenchant and hard that it seemed to Ursula's
+sensitive ears as if its metallic tones must have penetrated to every
+corner of the Palace. She gave a quick, terrified look towards the door,
+longing with all her might for the gift to see through its massive
+panels--to know what went on within that inner closet, where Wessex was
+waiting and must have heard.
+
+One pair of eyes, however, had caught that swift glance, and noted the
+sudden obvious fright which accompanied it. His Eminence had not taken
+his piercing eyes from off the young girl's face; he had seen every
+movement of the delicate nostril, every quiver of the eyelid.
+
+What Mary Tudor only half suspected, what the good old Duchess could not
+even conjecture, that His Eminence had already more than guessed.
+
+The delicate, rosy blush which suffused the young girl's cheeks, that
+indescribable something which emanated from her entire personality, the
+half-withered roses, all told their tale to this experienced
+diplomatist, accustomed to read his fellow-creatures' thoughts. Then
+that quick, apprehensive look towards the door had confirmed his every
+surmise.
+
+"She has seen His Grace. . . . He is closeted in there!" were his
+immediate mental deductions. And whilst Ursula met Her Majesty's cold
+glances with as much boldness as she could command, and Her Grace of
+Lincoln lost herself in a maze of abject apologies, His Eminence,
+seemingly unconcerned, edged up to the low door, keeping the lock and
+handle thereof well in view.
+
+"I crave Your Majesty's indulgence for the child," the Duchess of
+Lincoln was muttering. "She meant no harm, I'll take my oath on that,
+and she will, I know, return at once to her room, there to grieve over
+Your Majesty's disapproval of her. She----"
+
+"Nay, Duchess," interrupted the Queen sternly, "repentance is far from
+Lady Ursula's thoughts, and her behaviour is not the thoughtlessness of
+a moment."
+
+"Your Majesty . . ." protested the Duchess, whilst Ursula threw her head
+back in token of proud denial.
+
+"The rumour has already reached us," continued Mary, "of a
+maid-of-honour's strange wanderings at night and in disguise outside the
+purlieus of the Palace, and that the maiden who so far forgot her rank
+and her modesty was none other than the Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+Again that quick apprehensive glance directed towards the closet door at
+mention of her name, a glance unseen by any one present save by His
+Eminence's watchful eyes. To him it had revealed all that he wished to
+know, whilst the Queen, blinded by her own jealousy, saw nothing but a
+rival whom she desired to humiliate.
+
+"Wessex is behind that door . . ." mused His Eminence. "She starts every
+time her name is uttered . . . ergo, he made love to her without knowing
+who she is."
+
+It was natural and simple. The very logical sequence of a series of
+co-ordinated thoughts, together with a shrewd knowledge of human nature.
+
+How this little incident would affect his own immediate plans His
+Eminence had not yet conjectured. That it would prove of vast
+importance, he was never for a moment in doubt. Therefore, at a moment
+when every one's eyes were fixed upon the Queen or Ursula, he quietly
+turned the key in the lock of that closet door, and slipped the key in
+his own pocket.
+
+After that he rejoined the group of ladies, feeling that he could wait
+in peace until the close of the dramatic little episode.
+
+"The rumour, if rumour there was," Ursula had retorted defiantly, "is a
+false one, Your Majesty."
+
+"Indeed, child," said the Queen coldly, "did you not, then, some days
+ago leave the Palace with no other companion save weak-willed Margaret
+Cobham?"
+
+"Verily, I . . ."
+
+"In order to visit, in disguise, or masked, or cloaked--we know
+not--some public entertainment, a country fair, methinks?"
+
+"Of a truth, but . . ."
+
+"You do not deny that, meseems."
+
+"I do not deny it, Your Majesty. I meant no harm."
+
+"No harm! hark at the girl! Was there no harm then in your meeting
+certain gentlemen of our Court, under circumstances not altogether
+creditable to the fair fame of our English maidens?"
+
+"Has the Marquis de Suarez dared. . . ."
+
+"Nay! We did not name the Marquis, girl. Of a truth a gentleman will
+dare all, once a maid forgets her own dignity. But enough of this. I
+spoke a word of warning in your own interests. The Marquis--saving His
+Eminence's presence--has all the faults of his race. We warn you to
+cease this intercourse, which doth no credit to your modesty."
+
+"Your Majesty . . ." retorted Ursula, proud and rebellious at this
+slight put upon her, and forgetting for the moment even the invisible
+presence of the man she loved.
+
+But Mary Tudor, though at times capable of noble and just impulses, was
+far too blinded by her own passion to give up the joy of this victory
+over the girl who had become her rival. At any rate, Fate had done one
+great thing for her: she was the Queen, ruling as every Tudor had ruled,
+by divine right, absolutely, unquestionably.
+
+She would not let the girl speak, she would see her go, humiliated, with
+head bent, forcibly swallowing her tears of shame. Mary only regretted
+this: that Wessex could not be witness of this scene.
+
+She threw back her head, drew herself up to her full height, and pointed
+peremptorily up towards the gallery.
+
+"Silence, wench!" she commanded. "Go!"
+
+And Ursula could not help but obey.
+
+Slowly she mounted the stairs, her heart burning with defiance. To have
+angered Mary Tudor further by renewed rebellion would have been worse
+than madness; it would inevitably have brought more ignominy and worse
+perchance upon herself.
+
+But the tears, which she tried in vain to suppress, were not caused by
+the Queen's harsh words, but by the terrible doubts which assailed her
+when she thought of Wessex.
+
+Had he heard?
+
+What would he think?
+
+Would he understand the cause of her innocent deception, or would he
+believe--as indeed he must if he heard them--the evil insinuations so
+basely put forward by the Queen.
+
+As she found her way along the gallery she heard Mary's voice once more.
+
+"Duchess, I pray you see that in future more strict surveillance is kept
+over the young maids under your charge. Lady Ursula's conduct has put me
+verily to shame before the ambassadors of foreign Courts."
+
+With a sob of impotent revolt Ursula disappeared within the upper room.
+
+The Cardinal watched her until the door closed upon her and he was quite
+sure that she was well out of hearing. Then he approached the Queen and
+said in his most suave manner--
+
+"Nay! Your Majesty, methinks, takes this trifling matter too much _au
+serieux_. You deigned to mention the Marquis de Suarez just now. Believe
+me, he is far too proud of the favours bestowed upon him by Lady Ursula
+to look on England with any reproach."
+
+The Duchess of Lincoln would have spoken, if she dared. Her loyal old
+soul rebelled against this insinuation, which she knew to be utterly
+false. But to tax His Eminence with the uttering of unfounded gossip and
+in the presence of the Queen of England--that task was quite beyond the
+worthy Duchess's powers.
+
+But in her motherly heart she registered the resolution to take
+Ursula's part as hotly as she dared whenever Her Majesty would give her
+leave to speak, and in any case she would not allow the Cardinal's
+imputation to rest long upon the innocent young girl.
+
+The Queen, on the other hand, had visibly brightened up when His
+Eminence himself mentioned the name of the young Spaniard in such close
+connection with that of Ursula. She seemed to drink in with delight the
+poisoned cup of thinly veiled slander which His Eminence held so
+temptingly before her.
+
+She wanted to think of Ursula as base and wanton and had, until now,
+never quite dared to believe the many strange rumours which certainly
+had reached her ears.
+
+With all her faults, Mary was a just woman and above all a proud one;
+she would never have allowed her rival to suffer long and seriously
+under a false calumny. The name of the Marquis de Suarez, when she
+uttered it, had been but a shaft hurled at random.
+
+But since His Eminence so palpably hinted a confirmation of her hopes,
+she was more than ready to give his insinuations the fullest credence.
+So pleased was she that she gave him quite a pleasant smile, the first
+he had had from her since the afternoon.
+
+"As Your Eminence justly remarks," she said graciously, "the matter is
+perhaps not of grave moment. But our interest in the young maidens who
+form our Court is a genuine one nevertheless. I pray you let it
+pass--Duchess, we'll speak of it all on the morrow. My lord Cardinal, we
+will wish you good night."
+
+She was about to finally pass him and to leave the room when her
+curiosity got the better of her usual dignified reserve.
+
+"Is it the last night Your Eminence will spend at our Court?" she asked
+pointedly.
+
+"I think not, Your Majesty," replied the Cardinal blandly. "'Tis many
+days yet which I shall hope to spend in Your Majesty's company."
+
+"Yet the skein is still entangled, my lord."
+
+"'Twill be unravelled, Your Majesty."
+
+"When?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_" he replied. "Perhaps to-night."
+
+"To-night?"
+
+She had allowed herself to be led away by the eagerness of her desire to
+know what was happening. Shrewd enough where her own wishes and plans
+were concerned, she could not help but notice the air of contentment,
+even of triumph, which the Cardinal had worn throughout the evening. He
+certainly did not look like a man about to be sent back discomfited, to
+an irate master, there to explain that he had failed in the task
+allotted to him.
+
+Mary's curiosity was very much on the alert, but His Eminence's
+monosyllabic answers were not intended to satisfy her, and perforce she
+had to desist from further questioning him. Obviously he did not mean to
+tell her anything just yet. She bade him good night with more
+graciousness than he could have anticipated, and his bow to her was full
+of the most profound respect.
+
+A moment later she had passed out of the room, followed by Her Grace of
+Lincoln and her maids-of-honour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CHECK TO THE KING
+
+
+The colloquy between Mary Tudor and Ursula Glynde had probably not
+lasted more than a few minutes.
+
+To Wessex it seemed as if years had elapsed since he had closed the door
+of the small inner room behind him, shutting out from his sight the
+beautiful vision which had filled his soul with gladness.
+
+Years! during which he had learnt chapter by chapter, the history of
+woman's frailty and deceit. Now, he suddenly felt old, all the buoyancy
+had gone out of his life, and he was left worn and weary, with a
+millstone of shattered illusions hung around his neck.
+
+It had come about so strangely.
+
+She was not exquisite "Fanny," mysterious, elusive, after all. She was
+Lady Ursula Glynde.
+
+Well! what mattered that?
+
+The name first pronounced by the Queen's trenchant voice had grated
+harshly on his ear. Why?
+
+At first he could not remember.
+
+Fanny or Ursula? Why not? The woman whom conventionality had in some
+sense ordained that he should marry. Why not?
+
+Surely 'twas for him to thank conventionality for this kind decree.
+
+But the Lady Ursula Glynde!
+
+When did he last hear that name? Surely it was on that Spaniard's lips
+half an hour ago, accompanied by a thinly veiled, coarse jest and an
+impudent laugh.
+
+But his "Fanny!"--that white-clad, poetic embodiment of his most exalted
+dreams! Those guileless blue eyes--or were they black?--that childlike
+little head so fitly crowned with gold!
+
+No! no! _that_ was his "Fanny," not the other woman, whom the Queen was
+even now upbraiding for immodest conduct.
+
+Now she was speaking . . . stammering . . . denying nothing. . . . Where
+was that Ursula Glynde? . . . the other woman . . . she who was false
+and wanton. . . . "Fanny" was pure and sweet and girlish. . . . Ursula
+alone was to blame. Where was she?
+
+"Has the Marquis de Suarez dared . . ."
+
+It was her voice. Why did she name that man?
+
+She knew him then? . . . had met him at East Molesey Fair? . . . she did
+not deny it . . . she only asked if he had dared . . . whilst the
+Spaniard had said, with a flippant shrug of the shoulders, that the
+acquaintanceship had ripened into . . . friendship.
+
+Wessex' whole soul rebelled at this suggestion. He had but one desire,
+to see her, to ask her--she would tell him the truth, and he would
+believe whatever she told him with those dear red lips of hers, which he
+had kissed.
+
+He felt quite calm, still, firm in his faith, and sustained by his great
+love. He went to the door and found it locked.
+
+A trifling matter surely, but why was it locked?
+
+She had been upset, confused, ere the Queen had come. She would not
+allow him the great joy of proclaiming to all who were there to hear,
+that he had wooed and won her. Once more there came that torturing
+question: Why?
+
+So averse was she to his appearing before the Queen, that she had locked
+the door for fear that the exuberant happiness which was in him, should
+cause him to precipitate a climax which she obviously dreaded.
+
+Why? Why? Why?
+
+But he would respect her wishes, and though his very sinews ached with
+the longing to break down that door, to see her then and there, not to
+endure for another second this maddening agony which made his temples
+throb and his brain reel, he made no attempt to touch the bolts again.
+
+Just then there came the Queen's final words to her:
+
+"The Marquis de Suarez has all the faults of his race. We warn you to
+cease this intercourse which doth no credit to your modesty."
+
+And she--his love, his cherished dream--had said nothing in reply.
+Wessex strained his every sense to hear, but there came nothing save--
+
+"Your Majesty . . ."
+
+And then the peremptory--
+
+"Silence, wench!" from irate Mary Tudor.
+
+And then nothing more.
+
+She had gone evidently, bearing her humiliation, leaving him in doubt
+and fear, to endure a torture of the soul which well-nigh unmanned him.
+
+She must have known that he had heard, and yet she said nothing.
+
+To the Duke of Wessex, the most favoured man in England, the grand
+seigneur with one foot on the throne, the idea of suffering a false
+accusation in silence was a thing absolutely beyond
+comprehension--weakness which must have its origin in guilt.
+
+Human nature is so constituted that man is bound to measure his
+fellow-creatures by his own standard; else why doth charity think no
+evil? The goodness and purity which comes from the soul is always
+mirrored in the soul of others. Evil sees evil everywhere. Pride does
+not understand humility.
+
+Thus in Wessex' heart!
+
+Had his sovereign liege--that sovereign being a man--dared to put forth
+a base insinuation against him, he would have forgotten the kingship
+and struck the man, who impeached his honour, fearlessly in the face.
+Nothing but conscious guilt would have stayed his avenging hand, or
+silenced the indignant words on his lips.
+
+Of course he could not see what was actually passing: he could but
+surmise, and a fevered, tortured brain is an uncertain counsellor.
+
+He could not understand Ursula's attitude. The girlish weakness, the
+submission to the highest authority in the land born of centuries of
+tradition, the maidenly bashfulness at the monstrosity of the
+accusation, were so many little feminine traits which at this moment
+appeared to him as so many admissions of guilt.
+
+He would have loved them at other times: loved them in _her_ especially,
+because they were so characteristic of her simple nature, bred in the
+country, half woman and wholly child. Just now they were repellent to
+his pride, incomprehensible to his manhood, and for the first time his
+faith began to waver.
+
+Pity him, my masters! for he suffered intensely.
+
+Pity him, mistress, for he loved her with his whole soul.
+
+Nay! do not sneer. Love-at-first-sight is a great and wonderful thing,
+and, more than that, it is real--genuinely, absolutely, completely real.
+But it is not immutable. It is the basis, the solid foundation of what
+will become the lasting passion. In itself it has one great
+weakness--the absence of knowledge.
+
+Wessex loved with his soul, but not yet with his reason. How could he?
+Reason is always the last to fall into line with the other slaves of
+passion. At present he worshipped in her that which he had conceived her
+to be, and the very sublimity of this whole-hearted love was a bar to
+the existence of perfect trust and faith.
+
+There had been a long silence whilst Ursula mounted the stairs and
+finally disappeared, but the rustle of her silk skirt did not penetrate
+through the solid panels of the closet door. Wessex did not know whether
+she had gone, or had been ordered to wait until Her Majesty had quitted
+the room. He wondered now how soon he would meet her, how she would look
+when she finally released him from this torture-chamber. He knew that he
+would not upbraid her, and feared but one awful eventuality, his own
+weakness if she were guilty.
+
+Love such as his oft makes cowards of men.
+
+To the Cardinal's poisoned shaft he paid but little heed. The weary soul
+had come to the end of its tether. It could not suffer more.
+
+Beyond that lay madness or crime.
+
+Silence became oppressive.
+
+Then it seemed as if the key was being gently turned in the lock.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE CARDINAL'S MOVE
+
+
+His Eminence had been left all alone in the room after the passage of
+Her Majesty to her own apartments.
+
+"And now, what is the next move in this game of chess?" he mused, as he
+took the key of the closet door from his pocket and thoughtfully
+contemplated this tiny engine of his far-reaching and elaborate schemes.
+
+"For the moment my guess was a shrewd one. His Grace of Wessex is in
+there, and had I not locked that door he would have precipitated a
+climax, which had sent Queen Mary into a fever of jealous rage, and the
+Spanish ambassador and myself back to Spain to-morrow."
+
+He listened intently for a second or so; no sound came from the inner
+room. Then he glanced up towards the gallery.
+
+There was, of course, no sign of Lady Ursula. Even if she intended anon
+to rejoin His Grace, she would certainly wait a little while ere she
+once more ventured to sally forth.
+
+The Cardinal very softly put the key back into the lock, and waited.
+
+Very soon the door was vigorously shaken. His Eminence retired to the
+further end of the room and called loudly--
+
+"Who goes there?"
+
+"By Our Lady!" came in strong accents from the other side of the locked
+door, "whoever you may be, an you don't open this door, it shall fall
+in splinters atop of you."
+
+Time to once more recross the room, and turn a small key, and a second
+later the Cardinal stood face to face with the Duke of Wessex.
+
+"His Grace of Wessex!" he murmured, with an expression of boundless
+astonishment.
+
+"Himself in person, my lord," rejoined Wessex, trying with all his might
+to appear unconcerned before this man, whom he knew to be his deadliest
+enemy. "Marry!" he added, with well-acted gaiety, "the next moment, an
+Your Eminence had not released me, I might have lost my temper."
+
+"A precious trifle Your Grace would no doubt have quickly found again,"
+said His Eminence with marked suavity. "Ah! I well recollect in my young
+days being locked in . . . just like Your Grace . . . by a lady who was
+no less fair."
+
+Had he entertained the slightest doubt as to whether the little dramatic
+episode just enacted had borne its bitter fruit, he would have seen it
+summarily dispelled with the first glance which he had cast at Wessex.
+
+The Duke's grave face was deadly pale, and the violent effort which he
+made to contain himself was apparent in the heavily swollen veins of his
+temples and the almost imperceptible tremor of his hands. But his voice
+was quite steady as he said lightly--
+
+"Nay! why should Your Eminence speak of a lady in this case?"
+
+"What have I said?" quoth the Cardinal, throwing up his be-ringed hands
+in mock alarm. "Nay! Your Grace need have no fear. Discretion is an
+integral portion of my calling. I was merely indulging in reminiscences.
+My purple robes do not, as you know, conceal a priest. Though a prince
+of the Church, I am an ecclesiastic only in name, and therefore may
+remember, without a blush, that I was twenty once and very hot-tempered.
+The lady in my case put me under lock and key whilst she went to another
+gallant."
+
+"Again you speak of a lady, my lord," said the Duke, with the same light
+indifference. "May I ask----"
+
+"Nay, nay! I pray you ask me nothing . . . I saw nothing, believe me
+. . ."
+
+He paused a moment. Wessex had turned to his dog, who, yawning and
+stretching, after the manner of his kind, and not the least upset by his
+recent incarceration, had just appeared in the doorway of the inner
+room.
+
+"I saw nothing," continued the Cardinal, with a voice full of gentle,
+good-natured indulgence, "save a charming lady standing here alone,
+close to that door, when I entered with Her Majesty. What Queen Mary
+guessed or feared, alas! I cannot tell. The charming lady had just
+turned the key in the lock . . . and this set me thinking of my own
+youth and follies. . . . But Your Grace must pardon an old man who has
+but one affection left in life. Don Miguel is as a son to me----"
+
+"I pray you, my lord," here interrupted Wessex haughtily, "what has the
+Marquis de Suarez' name to do with me?"
+
+"Only this, my son," rejoined the Cardinal with truly paternal
+benevolence, "Don Miguel is a stranger in England . . . I had almost
+hoped that hospitality would prevent Your Grace from flying your hawk
+after his birds. . . .
+
+"Don Miguel would be hard hit," he added quickly, seeing that Wessex, at
+the end of his patience, was about to make an angry retort, "for we all
+know that where His Grace of Wessex desires to conquer, other vows and
+other lovers are very soon forgotten . . . But the Marquis is young
+. . . I would like to plead his cause. . . ."
+
+His keen eyes had never for a moment strayed from the proud face of the
+Duke. He was shrewd enough to know that in speaking thus, he was
+reaching the outermost limits of His Grace's forbearance. His robes and
+his age rendered him to a certain extent immune from an actual quarrel
+with a man of Wessex' physique, nor did fear for his own personal safety
+ever enter into the far-seeing calculations of this astute diplomatist.
+Whatever his weaknesses might be, cowardice was not one of them, and he
+pursued his own aims boldly and relentlessly.
+
+But he had had to endure a great deal through the personality and the
+presence of the Duke of Wessex: the humiliation put upon him this very
+afternoon by Mary Tudor still rankled deeply in his mind, and the vein
+of cruelty, almost inseparable from his nationality, rendered the
+present situation peculiarly pleasing to this dissector of human hearts.
+
+Until this moment he had perhaps not quite realized that His Grace of
+Wessex had been hard hit. Having wilfully put away from his own life
+every tender sentiment, he did not understand the quick rise of a great
+and whole-souled passion. The Duke had been ever noted for his
+gallantry, his chivalry, and his numerous and light amourettes, and the
+Cardinal never imagined that in the daring game which he had planned,
+and which with the help of the wench Mirrab he was about to play, he
+would have to reckon with something more serious than a passing
+flirtation.
+
+To his feline disposition, his callous estimate of human nature, his
+real hatred for this political rival, there was now a delicious
+satisfaction in dealing a really mortal wound to the man for whose sake
+he had oft been humiliated.
+
+He felt a thrill of real and cruel delight in seeing this haughty
+Englishman half broken under the strain of this mental torture, which
+his slanderous words helped to aggravate. With half-closed eyes His
+Eminence was watching the quiver of the proud lip, ever ready with
+laughter and jest, the tremor of the slender hands, that peculiar
+stiffening of the whole figure which denotes a fierce struggle 'twixt
+raging passion and iron self-control. Was it not a joy to watch this
+gaping wound, into which he himself was pouring a deadly poison with a
+steady and unerring hand?
+
+The game had become doubly interesting now, and so much more important.
+The Duke, obviously deeply in love with Lady Ursula, would certainly
+never turn to another woman again. If the intrigue contrived by His
+Eminence and the Marquis de Suarez succeeded in accordance with their
+expectations, then not only would His Grace be parted from the lady in
+accordance with Queen Mary's ultimatum, but he would probably bury his
+disillusionment and sorrow on some remote estate of his, far from Court
+and political strife.
+
+Chance had indeed been kind to the envoys of the King of Spain.
+
+Chance, and the natural sequence of events, skilfully guided by the
+Cardinal's gentle hands.
+
+But His Eminence was clever enough to know exactly how far he might dare
+venture. For the moment he certainly had said enough. The Duke seemed
+partly dazed and had altogether forgotten his presence.
+
+Without a sound the Cardinal glided out of the room.
+
+The closing of the door roused Wessex from the torpor into which he had
+fallen. The hall looked sombre and dreary, the wax tapers flickered
+feebly in their sockets, whilst strange shadows seemed to jeer at him
+from the dark corners around. He would not look up at the gallery, the
+steps whereon she stood, for it seemed to him as if some mocking witch
+wearing her face and her golden hair would look down at him from there,
+and laugh and sneer, until she finally faded from his sight in the arms
+of the Marquis de Suarez.
+
+"Other vows and other lovers," he mused, whilst trying to shut away from
+his eyes the hellish visions which tortured him. "So my beautiful Fanny
+is not mine at all . . . but the Spaniard's . . . or another's . . .
+what matter whose? Not true and proud, but a frisky wench, ready for
+intrigue, of whom these foreigners speak with a coarse laugh and a shrug
+of the shoulders."
+
+"Harry Plantagenet, my friend," he added, as the dog, seeming to feel
+the presence of sorrow, gave his master's hand a gentle lick, "His Grace
+of Wessex has been made a fool of by a woman. . . . Ah, fortune! fickle
+fortune! one or two turns of your relentless wheel and a host of
+illusions . . . the last I fear me . . . have been scattered to the
+winds. . . . Shall we go, old Harry? Meseems you are the only honest
+person in this poison-infected Court. We'll not stay in it, friend, I
+promise you. . . . I am thirsting for the pure air of our Devon moors.
+. . . Come, now . . . we must to bed . . . and sleep. . . . Not dream,
+old Harry! . . . whatever else we do . . . for God's sake, let us not
+dream. . . ."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE PROVOCATION
+
+
+When Ursula finally succeeded in escaping from her room, where she had
+been forcibly confined--almost a prisoner--in the charge of two
+waiting-women, she returned to the hall, vaguely hoping that Wessex
+would still be there. She found no one. The closet door was open; taking
+one of the wax tapers in her hand she peeped into the inner room and saw
+that it was empty.
+
+On the fur rug, on the floor, was still the impress of Harry
+Plantagenet's body, as he had curled himself up patiently to wait and
+sleep.
+
+A sudden draught extinguished the taper and left the small room in total
+darkness; to her overwrought nerves it seemed cold and lonely, like a
+newly opened grave. Wessex had gone because he had heard that she had
+deceived him. The slanders uttered against her had found credence in his
+heart. Thus she mused, guessing at the truth, perhaps not even realizing
+how much he had suffered.
+
+She would not go back to her room just yet. She knew that she could not
+rest. Though the room was empty there seemed something of him still in
+it, even in its cold and deserted aspect.
+
+She lingered here, sitting in the chair where he had sat and heard. She
+could not cry, she would not give way, for she wished to think.
+Therefore she lingered.
+
+Thus fate worked its will in this strange history of that night.
+
+Wessex did not know that she had returned. After the Cardinal had left
+him he waited awhile, but he never guessed that she would come back. Had
+he not heard that her kindest favours had been the Spaniard's, ere his
+noble Grace had come across her path? With that almost morbid humility
+which is such a peculiar and inalienable characteristic of a great love,
+he thought it quite natural that she should love Don Miguel, or any
+other man, rather than him, and now he was only too willing to suppose
+that she had gone to her favoured gallant, leaving him in the ridiculous
+and painful position in which she had wantonly placed him.
+
+He had waited in a desultory fashion, not really hoping that she would
+come. Then, as silence began to fall more and more upon the Palace, and
+the clock in the great tower boomed the midnight hour, he had finally
+turned his steps towards his own apartments.
+
+To reach them he had to go along the cloisters, and traverse the great
+audience chamber, which lay between his suite of rooms and that occupied
+by the Cardinal de Moreno and Don Miguel de Suarez.
+
+As he entered the vast room he was unpleasantly surprised to see the
+young Spaniard standing beside the distant window.
+
+The lights had been put out, but the two enormous bays were open,
+letting in a flood of brilliant moonlight. The night was peculiarly
+balmy and sweet, and through the window could be seen the exquisite
+panorama of the gardens and terraces of Hampton Court, with the river
+beyond bathed in silvery light.
+
+Wessex had paused at the door, his eyes riveted on that distant picture,
+which recalled so vividly to his aching senses the poetic idyll of this
+afternoon.
+
+It was strange that Don Miguel should be standing just where he was,
+between him and that vision so full of memories now.
+
+Wessex turned his eyes on the Marquis, who had not moved when he
+entered, and seemed absorbed in thought.
+
+"And there is the man who before me has looked in Ursula's eyes," mused
+the Duke. "To think that I have a fancy for killing that young
+reprobate, because he happens to be more attractive than myself . . . or
+because . . ."
+
+He suddenly tried to check his thoughts. They were beginning to riot in
+his brain. Until this very moment, when he saw the Spaniard standing
+before him, he had not realized how much he hated him. All that is
+primitive, passionate, semi-savage in man rose in him at the sight of
+his rival. A wild desire seized him to grip that weakling by the throat,
+to make him quake and suffer, if only one thousandth part of the agony
+which had tortured him this past hour.
+
+He deliberately crossed the room, then opened the door which led to his
+own apartments.
+
+"Harry, old friend," he called to his dog, "go, wait for me within. I
+have no need for thy company just now."
+
+The beautiful creature, with that peculiar unerring instinct of the
+faithful beast, seemed quite reluctant to obey. He stopped short, wagged
+his tail, indulged in all the tricks which he knew usually appealed to
+his master, begging in silent and pathetic language to be allowed to
+remain. But Wessex was quite inexorable, and Harry Plantagenet had
+perforce to go.
+
+The door closed upon the Duke's most devoted friend. In the meanwhile
+Don Miguel had evidently perceived His Grace, and now when Wessex turned
+towards him he exclaimed half in surprise, half in tones of thinly
+veiled vexation--
+
+"Ah! His Grace of Wessex? Still astir, my lord, at this hour?"
+
+"At your service, Marquis," rejoined the Duke coldly. "Has His Eminence
+gone to his apartments? . . . Can I do aught for you?"
+
+"Nay, I thank Your Grace . . . I thought you too had retired," stammered
+the young man, now in visible embarrassment. "I must confess I did not
+think to see you here."
+
+"Whom did you expect to see, then?" queried Wessex curtly.
+
+"Nay! methought Your Grace had said that questions could not be
+indiscreet."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Marry! . . . your question this time, my lord . . ."
+
+"Was indiscreet?"
+
+"Oh!" said the Spaniard deprecatingly.
+
+"Which means that you expect a lady."
+
+"Has Your Grace any objection to that?" queried Don Miguel with thinly
+veiled sarcasm.
+
+"None at all," replied Wessex, who felt his patience and self-control
+oozing away from him bit by bit. "I am not your guardian; yet, methinks,
+it ill becomes a guest of your rank to indulge in low amours beneath the
+roof of the Queen of England."
+
+"Why should you call them low?" rejoined the Marquis, whose manner
+became more and more calm and bland, as Wessex seemed to wax more
+violent. "You, of all men, my lord, should know that we, at Court, seek
+for pleasure where we are most like to find it."
+
+"Aye! and in finding the pleasure oft lose our honour."
+
+"Your Grace is severe."
+
+"If my words offend you, sir, I am at your service."
+
+"Is this a quarrel?"
+
+"As you please."
+
+"Your Grace . . ."
+
+"Pardi, my lord Marquis," interrupted Wessex haughtily and in tones of
+withering contempt, "I did not know that there were any cowards among
+the grandees of Spain."
+
+"By Our Lady, Your Grace is going too far," retorted the Spaniard.
+
+And with a quick gesture he unsheathed his sword.
+
+Wessex' eyes lighted up with the fire of satisfied desire. He knew now
+that this was what he had longed for ever since the young man's insolent
+laugh had first grated unpleasantly on his ear. For the moment all that
+was tender and poetic and noble in him was relegated to the very
+background of his soul. He was only a human creature who suffered and
+wished to be revenged, an animal who was wounded and was seeking to
+kill. He would have blushed to own that what he longed for now, above
+everything on earth, was the sight of that man's blood.
+
+"Nay, my lord!" he said quietly, "are we children to give one another a
+pin-prick or so?"
+
+And having drawn his sword, he unsheathed his long Italian dagger, and
+holding it in his left hand he quickly wrapped his cloak around that
+arm.
+
+"You are mad," protested Don Miguel with a frown, for a sword and dagger
+fight meant death to one man at least, and a mortal combat with one so
+desperate as Wessex had not formed part of the programme so carefully
+arranged by the Cardinal de Moreno.
+
+"By the Mass, man," was the Duke's calm answer, "art waiting to feel my
+glove on thy cheek?"
+
+"As you will, then," retorted Don Miguel, reluctantly drawing his own
+dagger, "but I swear that this quarrel is none of my making."
+
+"No! 'tis of mine! _en garde_!"
+
+Don Miguel was pale to the lips. Not that he was a coward; he had fought
+more than one serious duel before now, and risked his life often enough
+for mere pastime or sport. But there was such a weird glitter in the
+eyes of this man, whom he and his chief had so wantonly wronged for the
+sake of their own political advancement, such a cold determination to
+kill, that, much against his will, the Spaniard felt an icy shiver
+running down his spine.
+
+The room too! half in darkness, with only the strange, almost unreal
+brilliancy of the moon shedding a pallid light over one portion of the
+floor, that portion where one man was to die.
+
+The Marquis de Suarez had been provoked; his was therefore the right of
+selecting his own position for the combat. In the case of such a
+peculiar illumination this was a great initial advantage.
+
+The Spaniard, with his back towards the great open bay, had his
+antagonist before him in full light, whilst his own figure appeared only
+as a dark silhouette, elusive and intensely deceptive. Wessex, however,
+seemed totally unconscious of the disadvantage of his own position. He
+was still dressed in the rich white satin doublet in which he had
+appeared at the banquet a few hours ago. The broad ribbon of the Garter,
+the delicate lace at the throat, the jewels which he wore, all would
+help in the brilliant light to guide his enemy's dagger towards his
+breast.
+
+But he seemed only impatient to begin; the issue, one way or the other,
+mattered to him not at all. The Spaniard's death or his own was all that
+he desired:--perhaps his own now--for choice. He felt less bitter, less
+humiliated since he held his sword in his hand, and only vaguely
+recollected that Spaniards made a boast these days of carrying poisoned
+daggers in their belts.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE FIGHT
+
+
+Whilst Don Miguel was preparing for the fight, a slight sound suddenly
+caused him to turn towards that side of the room, from whence a tall
+oaken door led to his own and the Cardinal's apartments. His eyes,
+rendered peculiarly keen by the imminence of his own danger, quickly
+perceived a thin fillet of artificial light running upwards from the
+floor, which at once suggested to him that the door was slightly ajar.
+
+It had certainly been closed when Wessex first entered the room. Behind
+it, as Don Miguel well knew, the Cardinal de Moreno had been watching;
+he was the great stage-manager of the drama which he had contrived
+should be enacted this night before His Grace. The young Marquis was
+only one of the chief actors; the principal actress being the wench
+Mirrab, who, surfeited with wine, impatient and violent, had been kept a
+close prisoner by His Eminence these last six hours past.
+
+That little glimmer of light dispelled Don Miguel's strange obsession.
+The Cardinal, with the slight opening of that door, had plainly meant to
+indicate that he was on the alert, and that this unrehearsed scene of
+the drama would not be enacted without his interference. The Duke, who
+had his back to that portion of the room, had evidently seen and heard
+nothing, and the whole little episode had occurred in less than three
+seconds.
+
+Now Don Miguel was ready, and the next moment the swords clashed
+against one another. Eye to eye these two enemies seemed to gauge one
+another's strength. For a moment their daggers, held in the left hand,
+only acted as weapons of defence, the cloaks wrapped round their arms
+were still efficient sheaths.
+
+Very soon the Spaniard realized that his original fears had not been
+exaggerated. Wessex was a formidable opponent, absolutely calm, a
+skilful fencer, and with a wrist which seemed made of steel. His attack
+was quick and vigorous; step by step, slowly but unerringly, he forced
+the Marquis away from the stronghold of his position. Try how he might,
+parry how he could, the young Spaniard gradually found himself thrust
+more and more into full light, whilst his antagonist was equally
+steadily working his way round towards the more advantageous post.
+
+No sound came from the Cardinal's apartments, and Don Miguel dared not
+even glance towards the door, for the swiftest look would have proved
+his undoing.
+
+Wessex' face was like a mask, quite impassive, almost stony in its rigid
+expression of perfect determination. The Spaniard was still steadily
+losing ground, another few minutes and he would be in full light, whilst
+the Duke's figure would become the deceptive silhouette. Under those
+conditions, and against such a perfect swordsman, the Marquis knew that
+his doom was sealed. An icy sweat broke out from his forehead, he would
+have bartered half his fortune to know what was going on behind the
+door.
+
+For one awful moment the thought crossed his mind that His Eminence
+perhaps had decreed his death at the hands of Wessex. Who knows? the
+ways of diplomacy are oft tortuous and ever cruel; none knew that better
+than Don Miguel de Suarez himself. How oft had he callously exercised
+the right given him by virtue of some important mission entrusted to
+him, in order to sweep ruthlessly aside the lesser pawns which stood in
+the way of his success?
+
+Had he become the lesser pawn now in this gigantic game of chess, in
+which the hand of a Queen was the final prize for the victor? Was his
+death, at the hand of this man, of more importance to the success of the
+Cardinal's intrigues than his life would be? If so, Heaven alone could
+help him, for His Eminence would not hesitate to sacrifice him
+mercilessly.
+
+The horror of these thoughts gave the young man the strength of despair.
+But he might just as well have tried to pierce a stone wall, as to break
+the _garde_ of this impassive and deadly opponent. His own wrist was
+beginning to tire; the combat had lasted nigh on a quarter of an hour,
+and the next few minutes would inevitably see its fatal issue. The
+Duke's attacks became more swift and violent; once or twice already Don
+Miguel had all but felt His Grace's dagger at his throat.
+
+Suddenly a piercing woman's shriek seemed to rend the air, the swift
+sound of running footsteps, the grating of a heavy door on its hinges,
+and then there came another cry, more definite this time--
+
+"Wessex, have a care!"
+
+Both the men had paused, of course. Even in this supreme moment when one
+life hung in the balance, how could they help turning towards the
+distant corner of the room whence had come that piercing shriek.
+
+The door leading to the Marquis' apartments was wide open now; a flood
+of light came from the room beyond, and against this sudden glare, which
+seemed doubly brilliant to the dazed eyes of the combatants, there
+appeared a woman's figure, dressed in long flowing robes of clinging
+white, her golden hair hanging in a wild tangle over her shoulders. A
+quaint and weird figure! at first only a silhouette against a glowing
+background, but anon it came forward, disappeared completely for a
+while in the dense shadow of an angle of the room, but the next moment
+emerged again in the full light of the moon, ghostlike and fantastic; a
+girlish form, her white draperies half falling from her shoulders,
+revealing a white throat and one naked breast; on her hair a few green
+leaves, bacchante-like entwined and drooping, half hidden in the tangle
+of ruddy gold.
+
+Wessex gazed on her, his sword dropped from his hand.
+
+It was she! She, as a hellish vision had shown her to him half an hour
+ago, in the great room wherein he had first kissed her: a weird and
+witchlike creature, with eyes half veiled, and coarsened, sensuous lips.
+It was but a vision even now, for he could not see her very distinctly,
+his eyes were dazed with the play of the moonlight upon his sword, and
+she, after her second cry, had drawn back into the shadow.
+
+Don Miguel on the other hand had not seemed very surprised at her
+apparition, only somewhat vexed, as he exclaimed--
+
+"Lady Ursula, I pray you . . ."
+
+He placed his hand on her shoulder. It was the gesture of a master, and
+the tone in which he spoke to her was one of command.
+
+"I pray you go within," he added curtly; "this is no place for women."
+
+Wessex' whole soul writhed at the words, the touch, the attitude of the
+man towards her; an hour ago, when he stood beside her, he would have
+bartered a kingdom for the joy of taking her hand.
+
+She seemed dazed, and her form swayed strangely to and fro; suddenly she
+appeared to be conscious of her garments, for with a certain shamed
+movement of tardy modesty she pulled a part of her draperies over her
+breast.
+
+"I wish to speak with him," she whispered under her breath to Don
+Miguel.
+
+But the Spaniard had no intention of prolonging this scene a second
+longer than was necessary. It had from the first been agreed between him
+and the Cardinal that the Duke should not obtain more than a glimpse at
+the wench. At any moment, after the first shock of surprise, Wessex
+might look more calmly, more steadily at the girl. She might begin to
+speak, and her voice--the hoarse voice of a gutter-bred girl--would
+betray the deception more quickly than anything else. The one brief
+vision had been all-sufficient: Don Miguel was satisfied. It had been
+admirably staged so far by the eminent manager who still remained out of
+sight, it was for the young man now to play his role skilfully to the
+end.
+
+"Come!" he said peremptorily.
+
+He seized the girl's wrist, whispered a few words in her ear which never
+reached her dull brain, and half led, half dragged her towards the door.
+
+Wessex broke into a long, forced laugh, which expressed all the
+bitterness and anguish of his heart.
+
+Oh! the humiliation of it all! Wessex suddenly felt that all his anger
+had vanished. The whole thing was so contemptible, the banality of the
+episode so low and degrading, that hatred fell away from him like a
+mantle, leaving in his soul a sense of unutterable disgust and even of
+abject ridicule. His pride alone was left to suffer. He who had always
+held himself disdainfully aloof from all the low intrigues inseparable
+from Court life, who had kept within his heart a reverent feeling of
+chivalry and veneration for all women, whether queen or peasant,
+constant or fickle, for him to have sunk to this! one of a trio of
+vulgar mountebanks, one of two aspirants for the favours of a wanton.
+
+Of trickery, of deception, he had not one thought. How could he have?
+The events of the past hours had prepared him for this scene, and he had
+had only a brief vision in semi-darkness, whilst everything had been
+carefully prepared to blind him completely by this dastardly trick.
+
+"By Our Lady," he said at last, with that same bitter, heartrending
+laugh, "the interruption was most opportune, and we must thank the Lady
+Ursula for her timely intervention. What! you and I, my lord, crossing
+swords for that?" and he pointed with a gesture of unutterable scorn
+towards the swaying figure of the woman. "A farce, my lord, a farce! Not
+a tragedy!"
+
+He threw his dagger on to the floor and sheathed his sword, just as Don
+Miguel had succeeded in pushing the girl out of the room and closing the
+door on her.
+
+The Spaniard began to stammer an apology.
+
+"I pray you speak no more of it, my lord," said the Duke coldly, "'tis I
+owe you an apology for interfering in what doth not concern me. As His
+Eminence very pertinently remarked just now, hospitality should forbid
+me to fly my hawk after your lordship's birds. My congratulations, my
+lord Marquis!" he added with a sneer. "Your taste, I perceive, is
+unerring. Good night and pleasant dreams."
+
+He bowed lightly and turned to go.
+
+Don Miguel watched him until his tall figure had disappeared behind the
+door. Then he sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction.
+
+"An admirably enacted comedy," he mused; "a thousand congratulations to
+His Eminence. Carramba! this is the best night's work we have
+accomplished since we trod this land of fogs."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE SEQUEL OF THE COMEDY
+
+
+Mirrab, during that very brief drama in which she herself had played the
+chief role, had vainly tried to collect her scattered wits. For the last
+few hours two noble gentlemen, one of whom wore gorgeous purple robes,
+had been plying her with wine and with promises that she should see the
+Duke of Wessex if she agreed to answer to the name of "Lady Ursula,"
+seeing that His Grace never spoke to any one under the rank of a lady.
+
+A clever and simple trick, which readily deceived this uneducated,
+half-crazy wench, whose life had been spent in gipsy booths, and whose
+intellect had long been quashed by the constant struggle for existence,
+which mostly consisted of senseless and fantastic exhibitions designed
+for the delectation of ignorant yokels.
+
+She liked the idea of being called "my lady" even when it was done in
+mockery, and was delighted at the thought of appearing in this new guise
+before the Duke of Wessex, for whom she had entertained a curious and
+passionate adoration ever since the dramatic episode of Molesey Fair.
+She liked still more the voluptuous garments which she was bidden to
+don, and was ready enough to concede to the young foreigner who thus
+embellished her, any favours which he chose to demand.
+
+That had been her training, poor soul! her calling in life--a vulgar
+trickster by day, a wanton by night. Do not be too hard in your
+judgment, mistress! she knew nothing of home, very little of kindred;
+born in the gutter, her ambition did not soar beyond good food and a
+little money to spend.
+
+The Duke of Wessex had saved her life; she was proud of that, and since
+that day she had had a burning ambition to see him again. She had hoped
+that a warning from the stars would prove a certain passport to his
+presence, but His Eminence the Cardinal and the other young gentleman
+had assured her that a noble name would alone lead her to him.
+
+Thus she had been content to wait a few hours: the wine was good and the
+foreigner not too exacting. After awhile she had dropped to sleep like
+some tired animal, curled up on a rug on the floor. The clash of arms
+had roused her, and finding that every door yielded to her touch, she
+ran out, in eager curiosity to see whence came the sound. Her first cry,
+on seeing that strange moonlit combat, was one of sheer terror; then she
+recognized Wessex, and gave him a cry of warning.
+
+But the wine which she had drunk had made her head heavy. She would have
+liked to go to the Duke, but the room seemed to be whirling unpleasantly
+around her. Ere she had time to utter another word the young foreigner
+had roughly seized her wrist and dragged her away. She was too weak to
+resist him, and was reluctantly compelled to follow his lead. The next
+moment he had closed the door on her, and she knew nothing more.
+
+Excitement had somewhat dazed her, but a moment or two later she
+partially recovered and collected her scattered senses. She put her ear
+to the door and tried to listen, but she could hear nothing. Behind her
+was the corridor, out of which opened several doors, one of these being
+the one which gave into the room wherein she had been confined the whole
+evening. Not a sound came from there either. There was not a sign of my
+lord Cardinal.
+
+Once more she tried the handle of the big door in front of her: it
+yielded, and she found herself back in the room where the fight had just
+taken place. The moonlight still streamed in through the open window.
+She could not see into the corners of the great hall, but straight in
+front of her was another massive door, exactly similar to the one in
+which she stood.
+
+The room itself seemed empty. Wessex had gone, and she had not spoken to
+him. That was the one great thought which detached itself from the
+turmoil which was going on in her brain. The door opposite fascinated
+her. Perhaps he had gone through there. Nay! surely so, for it almost
+seemed to her as if she could hear that strange, bitter laugh of his
+still echoing in the distance.
+
+She ran across the room, fearful lest he should disappear altogether ere
+she could get to him. But even before she reached the door she felt her
+arm seized, her body dragged violently back. By the light of the moon,
+which fell full on him, she recognized the young foreign lord.
+
+He had summarily placed himself before her, and he held her wrist in a
+tight grip.
+
+"Let me go!" she murmured hoarsely.
+
+"No!"
+
+"I _will_ go to him!"
+
+"You cannot!"
+
+He spoke from between his teeth, as if in a fury of rage or fear, she
+could not tell which, but as she, poor soul, had never inspired terror
+in any one she quaked before his rage.
+
+Just then she heard, as if in the room beyond, a few footsteps, then a
+call: "Come, Harry!" and after that the opening and shutting of a
+distant door. It was the Duke of Wessex going again, somewhere where
+perhaps she could not find him again, and here was this man standing
+between her and the object of her adoration.
+
+With a vigorous jerk she freed herself from Don Miguel's grasp.
+
+"Have a care, man, have a care," she said in a low, trembling voice, in
+which a suppressed passion seemed suddenly to vibrate. "Let me pass, or
+. . ."
+
+"Silence, wench!" commanded Don Miguel. "Another word and I call the
+guard and have thee whipped as a disturber of the peace."
+
+She started as if stung with the very lash with which he so callously
+threatened her. The fumes of wine and of excitement were being slowly
+expelled from her dull brain. A vague sense of bitter wrong crept into
+her heart; her own native shrewdness--the shrewdness of the country
+wench--made her dimly realize that she had been fooled: how and for what
+purpose she could not yet comprehend.
+
+She pushed the tangled hair from her forehead, mechanically readjusting
+her cumbersome garments, then she stepped close up to the young
+Spaniard; she crossed her arms over her breast and looked him boldly in
+the eyes.
+
+"Soho! my fine lord!" she said, speaking with a strange and pathetic
+effort at calmness, "that's it, is it? . . . and do ye take me for a
+fool, that I do not see through your tricks? . . . You and that
+purple-robed hypocrite there wanted to make use of me . . . you cajoled
+me with soft words . . . promises . . . what? . . . Bah! you tricked me,
+I say, do you hear?" she added with ever-increasing vehemence, "tricked
+me that you might trick him. . . . With all your talks of Ursula and
+Lady . . . the devil alone knows what ye wanted. . . . Well! you've had
+your way . . . he looked on me as he would on a plague-stricken cur
+. . . mangy and dirty. . . . Was that what ye wanted? . . . You've had
+your will . . . are ye satisfied . . . what more do ye want of me?"
+
+Don Miguel, much astonished at this unexpected outburst of passion,
+gazed at her with a sneer, then he shrugged his shoulders and said
+coldly--
+
+"Nothing, wench! His Grace of Wessex does not desire thy company, and I
+cannot allow thee to molest him. If thou'lt depart in peace, there'll be
+a well-filled purse for thee . . . if not . . . the whip, my girl . . .
+the whip . . . understand!"
+
+"I will not go!" she repeated with dogged obstinacy. "I'll not . . .
+I'll not . . . I'll see him just once . . . he was good to me. . . . I
+love his beautiful face and his kind, white hands; I want to kiss them.
+. . . I'll not go . . . I'll not . . . till I've kissed them. . . . So
+do not stand in my way, fine sir . . . but let me get to him. . . ."
+
+The obstinate desire, half a mania now, had grown upon her with this
+wanton thwarting of her wishes. A wholly unfettered passion seethed in
+her, half made up of hatred against this man who had fooled her and
+caused her to be spurned with unutterable contempt by Wessex.
+
+"I'll give thee three minutes in which to get sober, my wench!" remarked
+Don Miguel placidly. "After that, take heed. . . ."
+
+He laughed a long, cruel laugh, and looked at her with an evil leer, up
+and down.
+
+"After that thou'lt go," he said slowly and significantly, "but not in
+peace. The Palace watch have a heavy hand . . . three men to give thee
+ten lashes each . . . till thy shoulders bleed, wench . . . aye! I'll
+have thee whipped till thou die under it . . . so go now or . . ."
+
+He looked so evil, so threatening, so full of baffled rage, that
+instinctively she drew back a few steps away from him, into the gloom.
+. . . As she did so her foot knocked against something on the floor,
+whilst the sharp point of some instrument of steel penetrated through
+the thin soles of her shoes.
+
+She had enough presence of mind, enough determination, enough deadly
+hatred of him, not to give forth one sound; but when he, almost overcome
+with his own furious passion, had paused awhile and turned from her, she
+stooped very quickly and picked up that thing which had struck her foot.
+It was an unsheathed dagger.
+
+Silently, surreptitiously, she hid it within the folds of her gown,
+whilst keeping a tight grip on its handle with her clenched right hand.
+Now she felt safe, and sure of herself and of ultimate success.
+
+Don Miguel, seeing how quiet she had become, heaved a sigh of relief.
+For one moment he had had the fear that she meant to create a scandal,
+attract the guard with her screams, bring spectators upon the scene, and
+thus expose the whole despicable intrigue which had just been so
+successfully carried through.
+
+But now she was standing quite rigid and mute, half hidden by the gloom,
+evidently terrorized by the cruel threats hurled against her.
+
+"Well, which is it to be, wench," said the young man more calmly, "the
+purse of gold or the whipping-post?"
+
+She did not reply at once, and a strange, almost awesome silence fell
+upon the scene. Not a sound from any portion of the Palace, even from
+the gardens and terraces, beyond the night watchman's call had ceased to
+echo, only from far, very far away beyond the river and the distant
+meadows the melancholy hooting of an owl broke the intense stillness of
+the place.
+
+Then the woman began to speak, slowly at first, very calmly, and in a
+voice deep and low, like the sound of muffled thunder, growing louder
+and louder, more violent, more passionate as she worked herself up into
+a very whirlwind of fury.
+
+"Powers of Hell!" she said, "grant me patience! Man, listen. Ye don't
+understand me. . . . I am not one of your fine Court ladies, who simpers
+and trips along arrayed in silken kirtle. . . . I am called Mirrab, a
+witch, d'ye hear? . . . a witch who knows naught about the law, and the
+guard, nor about queens and richly dressed lords. The Duke of Wessex
+saved my life . . . and I want to go to him. . . . Do ye let me go.
+. . . What is it to ye if I see him? . . . Do ye let me go. . . ."
+
+Her voice broke into a sob of agonized entreaty and baffled desire.
+
+"Shall I call the guard?" rejoined Don Miguel coldly.
+
+She was now quite close to him, he, still between her and the door which
+she wished to reach, was half turned away from her, in obvious
+impatience, and looking at her over his shoulder with a sneer and a
+cruel frown.
+
+"Do ye let me go!" she entreated once more.
+
+For sole answer he made pretence at calling the guard.
+
+"What ho there! the guard! What ho!"
+
+But the last sound broke in a death rattle. Even as he spoke Mirrab had
+thrust the dagger with all her might between his shoulders. He fell
+forward on the floor, whilst with one last gasp of agony he called upon
+the man whom he had so deeply wronged.
+
+"A moi! . . . Wessex! . . . I die! . . . A moi! . . ."
+
+And the silvery moon, who had just gazed on so placidly whilst human
+passions ran riot in this vast audience chamber, who had shed her poetic
+light on hatred, revenge, and lust, suddenly veiled her brilliant face:
+the room was plunged in total darkness as the Marquis de Suarez breathed
+his last.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+CHECK-MATE
+
+
+For some time already there had been a certain amount of commotion in
+the Palace. Mirrab's shouts when first she saw the combat, then her
+high-voiced altercation with Don Miguel, had roused the attention of
+some of the guard who were stationed in the cloister green court close
+by. Some of the gentlemen too were astir.
+
+Wessex himself soon after he had reached his own apartments heard the
+sound of angry voices proceeding from the room which he had just
+quitted. He could hear nothing distinctly, but it seemed to him as if a
+woman and a man were quarrelling violently. He tried to shut his ears to
+the sound. He would hear nothing, know nothing more of the wanton who
+had fooled and mocked him.
+
+But there are certain instincts in every chivalrous man, which will not
+be gainsaid; among these is the impulse to go at once to the assistance
+of a woman if she be in trouble or difficulty.
+
+It was that impulse and nothing more which caused Wessex to retrace his
+footsteps. He had some difficulty in finding his way, now that there was
+no moonlight to guide him, but as soon as he re-entered the last room,
+which was next to the audience chamber, he heard the ominous "A moi!" of
+his dying opponent. Also all round him the obvious commotion of a number
+of footsteps all tending towards the same direction.
+
+An icy horror suddenly gripped his heart. Not daring to imagine what had
+occurred, he hurried on. By instinct, for he could see nothing, he
+contrived to find and open the door, and still going forward he
+presently stumbled against something which lay heavy and inert at his
+feet.
+
+In a moment he was on his knees, touching the prostrate body with a
+gentle hand; realizing that the unfortunate young man had fallen on his
+face, he tried with infinite care to lift and turn him as tenderly as he
+could.
+
+Then suddenly he became conscious of another presence in the room.
+Nothing more than a ghostlike form of white, almost as rigid as the
+murdered man himself, whilst from the corridors close by the sound of
+approaching footsteps, still hesitating which way to go, became more and
+more distinct. A murmur of distant voices too gradually took on a
+definite sound.
+
+"This way."
+
+"No, that."
+
+"In the court . . ."
+
+"No! the audience chamber!"
+
+The ghostly white-clad figure appeared as if turned to stone.
+
+"Through the window," whispered Wessex with sudden vehemence, "it is not
+high!--quick! fly, in the name of God! while there's yet time!"
+
+That was his only instinct now. He could not think of her as the woman
+he had loved, he understood nothing, knew nothing; but in the intense
+gloom which surrounded him he had lost sight of the witchlike and
+horrible vision which had dealt a death-blow to his love, he seemed only
+to see the green bosquets of the park, the pond, the marguerites, and
+another white-clad figure, a girlish face crowned with the golden halo
+of purity and innocence.
+
+The wild passion which he had felt for her changed to an agonizing
+horror, not only of her deed, but at the thought of seeing her
+surrounded, rough-handled by the guard, shamed and treated as a mad and
+drunken wanton.
+
+He despised himself for his own weakness, but at this awful and supreme
+moment, when he realized that the idol which he had set up and
+worshipped was nothing but defiled mud, he felt for her only tenderness
+and pity.
+
+Love had touched him once, and he knew now that nothing would ever tear
+her image completely from out his heart. Love, great, ardent, immutable,
+was dead; but death is oft more powerful than life, and his dead love
+pleaded for his chivalry, for his protection, with all the power of
+sweet memories, and aided by the agonizing grip of cold, stiff hands
+clinging to his heartstrings.
+
+He pointed once more to the open window.
+
+"Quick! in God's name!"
+
+The girl moved towards him.
+
+"Ah no, no, for pity's sake. Go!"
+
+There was not a second to be lost. Mirrab, realizing her danger, was
+sobered and alert. The next moment she was clinging to the window-sill
+and measuring its height from the terrace below. It was but a few feet.
+As agile as a cat she flung herself over, and disappeared into the gloom
+just as the door leading into the audience chamber was thrown violently
+open, and a group of people--gentlemen, guard, servitors--bearing
+torches came rushing into the room.
+
+"Water! . . . a leech!--quick, some of you!" commanded Wessex, who held
+Don Miguel's head propped against his knee.
+
+"What is it? . . ." queried every one with unanimous breath.
+
+Some pressed forward, snatching the flaming torches from the hands of
+the servitors. In a moment Wessex and the dead Marquis were surrounded,
+and the room flooded with weird, flickering light.
+
+From the door of the apartments on the left a suave and urbane voice had
+sounded softly--
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"The Spanish Marquis," murmured the foremost man in the crowd.
+
+"Wounded?" queried another.
+
+"Nay! I fear me dead," said Wessex quietly.
+
+Then the groups parted instinctively, for the same urbane voice had
+repeated its query in tones of the gravest anxiety.
+
+"I was at prayers, and heard this noise. . . . What is it?"
+
+The Cardinal de Moreno now stood beside the dead body of his friend.
+
+"Your Grace! and? . . ."
+
+"Alas, Your Eminence!" replied Wessex, "Don Miguel de Suarez is dead."
+
+[Illustration: "Alas, Your Eminence! Don Miguel de Suarez is dead."]
+
+The Cardinal made no comment, and the next moment was seen to stoop and
+pick up something from the ground.
+
+"But how?" queried one of the gentlemen.
+
+"A duel?" added another.
+
+"No, not a duel, seemingly," said His Eminence softly. "Don Miguel's
+sword and dagger are both sheathed."
+
+He turned to the captain of the guard, who was standing close beside
+him.
+
+"Will this dagger explain the mystery, think you, my son?" he asked,
+handing a small weapon to the soldier. "I picked it up just now."
+
+The guard--he was but a young man--took the dagger from His Eminence's
+hand, and looked at it attentively. Those who were nearest to him
+noticed that he suddenly started, and that the hand which held the
+narrow pointed blade trembled visibly.
+
+"Your Grace's dagger!" he said at last, handing the weapon to Wessex.
+"It has Your Grace's arms upon the hilt."
+
+Dead silence followed these simple words. The Duke seemed half dazed,
+and mechanically took the dagger from the captain's hand; the blade
+still bore on it the marks of Don Miguel's blood.
+
+"Yes! it is my dagger," he murmured mechanically.
+
+"But no doubt Your Grace can explain . . ." suggested His Eminence
+indulgently.
+
+Wessex was about to reply when one of the guard suddenly interposed.
+
+"I seemed to see a woman flying through the gardens just now, captain,"
+he said, addressing his officer.
+
+"A woman?" asked His Eminence. "What woman?"
+
+"Nay, my lord, I couldn't see distinctly," replied the soldier, "but she
+was dressed all in white, and ran very quickly along the terrace not far
+from this window."
+
+"Then Your Grace will perhaps be able to tell us . . ." suggested the
+Cardinal with utmost benevolence.
+
+"I can tell Your Eminence nothing," replied Wessex coldly. "I was in
+this room all the time and saw no woman near."
+
+"Your Grace was here?" said His Eminence in gentle tones of profound
+astonishment, "alone with Don Miguel de Suarez? . . . The woman . . ."
+
+"There was no woman here," rejoined the Duke of Wessex firmly, "and I
+was alone with Don Miguel de Suarez."
+
+There was dead silence now, the moon, pale, inquisitive, brilliant,
+peeped in through the window to see what was amiss. She saw a number of
+men recoiling, awestruck, from a small group composed of a dead man and
+of the first gentleman in the land self-confessed as a murderer. No one
+dared to speak, the moment was too solemn, too terrible, for any speech
+save a half-smothered sigh of horror.
+
+The captain of the guard was the first to recollect his duty.
+
+"Your Grace's sword . . ." he began, somewhat shamefacedly.
+
+"Ah yes! I had forgot," said Wessex quietly, as he rose to his feet. He
+drew his sword from its sheath, and with one quick, sudden wrench, broke
+the blade across his knee. Then he threw the pieces of steel on the
+ground.
+
+"I am ready to follow you, friend captain," he said, with all the
+hauteur, all the light, easy graciousness so peculiar to himself.
+
+The groups parted silently, almost respectfully, as His Grace of Wessex
+passed out of the room--a prisoner.
+
+
+
+
+PART IV
+
+HIS GRACE OF WESSEX
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+THOUGHTS
+
+
+In the loneliness and silence of the Tower, the Duke of Wessex had had
+enough leisure to think.
+
+One fatal autumn afternoon, and what a change in the destinies of his
+life! Yesterday he was the first gentleman in England, loved by many,
+feared by a few, reverenced by all as the perfect embodiment of national
+pride and national grandeur--almost a king.
+
+And to-day?
+
+But of himself, his own obvious fate, the shame and disgrace of his
+present position, he thought very little. Ever an easy-going
+philosopher, he had as yet kept the insouciance of the gamester who has
+staked and lost and is content to retire from the board. One thing more,
+remember! Life in those days was not the priceless treasure which later
+civilization would have us believe it. There was a greater simplicity of
+faith, a more childlike certitude in the great truths of futurity, which
+we in our epoch are so ready to cavil at.
+
+If nations and individuals committed excesses of unparalleled cruelty in
+the name of their respective creeds, if men hated each other, tortured
+each other, destroyed one another, it was because they misunderstood the
+teachings of religion, and not because they ignored or disbelieved them.
+
+The cruelties themselves are unjustifiable, the mind of
+twentieth-century civilization can but gaze at them in mute horror,
+history can but record and deplore. But the religion which prompted
+them--for it was religion--was not the feeble, anaemic plaything of an
+effete generation in search of new excitements; it was strong and
+virile, alike in the atrocity of its crimes and the sublimity of its
+virtues.
+
+Thus with a man like Wessex. Life had been pleasant, of course, a bed of
+roses worthy even of one of our modern sybarites, but to him only the
+episode, which higher thoughts and Christian belief have ever suggested
+that it should be.
+
+Perhaps it would be too much to say that faith alone caused him to look
+lightly upon this sudden, tragic ending of his brilliant career, but it
+undoubtedly helped him to preserve that easy and unembittered frame of
+mind of the philosopher, who, with life, loses that which hath but
+little value.
+
+And now indeed, what worth would life have for him? This is where
+thoughts became bitter and cruel, not over death, not over disgrace, but
+over the treachery of a woman and the flight of an illusion. What did it
+all mean?
+
+Sometimes now, when he sat looking straight before him at the cold grey
+walls of his prison, he seemed to see that strange dual personality
+mocking him with all the witchlike elusiveness which had mystified and
+tortured him from the first.
+
+His "Fanny"! that beautiful vision of innocent girlhood; arch,
+coquettish, tender yet passionate, the clear depths of those blue eyes,
+the purity of that radiant smile!
+
+And then she! Ursula Glynde! with bare shoulder and breast, cheeks
+flushed, but not with shame, eyes moist, yet not with tears, submitting
+with feeble, hoarse protests to the masterful touch of an insolent
+Spaniard, only to take revenge later with the elemental barbarity of the
+street wench, too drunk to understand her crime.
+
+Every fibre within him cried out that this was not the woman who had
+plucked a marguerite petal by petal, and quivered with delight at sound
+of the nightingale's voice among the willows; not the woman on whose
+soft girlish cheeks he had loved to call forth, with an ardent gaze or a
+bold word, a tender blush of rosy red, not the woman whom in one brief
+second he had learnt to love, whom in one mad, heavenly moment he had
+kissed.
+
+Every sense in him clamoured for the belief that it had all been an ugly
+dream, an autumn madness from which he would presently wake at her feet.
+
+Every sense! yet his eyes had seen her! his ears had heard her respond
+to her name, when uttered roughly by the man who seemed to be her
+master.
+
+The truth itself never once dawned upon him. The whole trick had been
+managed with such devilish cunning, every piece in the intricate
+mechanism of that intrigue had been so carefully adjusted, that it would
+have required superhuman insight, or the cold, calculating mind of an
+unemotional mathematician, to have hit upon its natural explanation.
+
+Wessex possessed neither. He was just a man touched for the first time
+in his life with the strongest passion of which human creatures are
+capable. He loved a woman with all the ardour, all the unreasoning
+instincts, all the sublime weakness and folly of which a loyal and
+strong heart is capable. That woman had proved a liar and a wanton in
+his sight.
+
+He was forced to believe that; had he not seen her? Which of us hath
+ever really grasped the fact that one human being may be fashioned line
+for line, feature for feature, exactly like another? Yet such a thing
+is. Nature hath every freak. Why not that one?
+
+He thought of everything, of every solution, of every possibility.
+Heaven help him! of every excuse, but never of that. That Nature, in one
+of those wayward moods in which no one would dare deny that she at
+times indulges, had fashioned a kitchen wench as a lifelike replica of
+one of the most beautiful women in England--that one simple,
+indisputable, easily verified fact, never once entered his tortured
+mind.
+
+She was mad! yes!--irresponsible for her own actions, yes!--wilfully
+wanton! no! a thousand times no! Hers was a dual nature, wherein angels
+and devils alternately held sway!
+
+He, poor fool, had fallen under the spell of the angels, and the devils
+had then turned him away from his shrine, shattered his illusions, shown
+him his idol's feet of clay, then dared him ever to worship again, ever
+to forget the mud which cloyed the bottom of the limpid stream.
+
+With Harry Plantagenet for sole companion, during the brief days which
+preceded his trial, Wessex had indeed leisure for his thoughts. The
+faithful animal knew quite well that his master suffered and could not
+now be comforted, but he would sit for hours with his wise head resting
+on Wessex' knee, his gentle eyes fixed in mute sympathy upon the grave
+face of the Duke.
+
+He knew better than any one that his master was in serious trouble, for
+when they were alone together, when no one was there who could see, no
+one but this true and silent companion, then philosophy, pride, and
+bitterness would fly to the winds and a few hot tears would ease the
+oppression which made Wessex' heart ache almost to breaking.
+
+And Harry Plantagenet, when he saw those tears, would curl himself up
+and go to sleep. With his keen, canine instinct, he felt no doubt only
+that an atmosphere of peace and rest had descended on the gloomy Tower
+prison.
+
+The faithful creature could not understand that it was the visit of the
+angel of sorrow, who, in passing, had lulled a weary man's agonizing
+soul with the gentle, soothing touch of his wing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+MARYE, THE QUEENE
+
+
+Thus day followed day, whilst in the great world without, England was
+preparing to see her premier lord arraigned before his peers on a charge
+of murder. And in one of the smaller chambers of her own private
+apartments at Hampton Court, Mary Tudor sat alone, praying and thinking,
+thinking and praying again.
+
+Not a queen now, not a proud and wilful Tudor, passionate, cruel, or
+capricious, but only a middle-aged, broken-hearted woman, with eyes
+swollen with weeping, and brain heavy with eternally reiterated desires.
+
+To save him! to save him!
+
+But how?
+
+That he had committed so foul a crime as to stab an enemy in the back,
+this in the very face of his own confession Mary still obstinately
+refused to believe. The rumours anent the presence of a woman in that
+part of the Palace and at that fatal hour had of course reached her
+ears. Jealousy and hatred, which had raged within her, had readily
+fastened on Ursula Glynde as the cause, if not the actual perpetrator of
+the dastardly crime.
+
+That a woman was somehow or other connected with the terrible events of
+that night, every one was of course ready to admit, but in what manner
+no one was able to conjecture.
+
+A murder had been committed. Of that there could be no doubt. Don Miguel
+de Suarez had been stabbed in the back! Not in fair fight, but
+brutally, callously stabbed! and he a guest at the English Court!
+
+Of this barbarous, abominable act the Duke of Wessex stood
+self-convicted.
+
+Impossible, of course! Preposterous! pronounced his friends. He! the
+first gentleman in England, brave to a fault, fastidious, artistic, and
+a perfect swordsman to boot! The very accusation was ridiculous.
+
+Yet he stood self-convicted.
+
+Why? in the name of Heaven! Why?
+
+"To shield a woman," said His Grace's friends.
+
+"What woman?" retorted his enemies.
+
+The name of Lady Ursula Glynde had been faintly whispered, yet it seemed
+almost as preposterous to suppose that a beautiful young girl--refined,
+gentle, poetic, scarce out of her teens--would have the physical
+strength to commit so foul a deed, as to think of His Grace in
+connection with it.
+
+Yet, in spite of that, the idea had gained ground, that the Lady Ursula
+Glynde could, an she would, throw some light on the mystery which
+surrounded the events of that terrible night, and no one brooded over
+that idea more determinedly than did Mary Tudor.
+
+The young girl had of course denied all knowledge of what had or had not
+occurred. There was not a single definite fact that might even remotely
+connect her with the supposed enmity between Wessex and Don Miguel.
+
+The Cardinal was not likely to speak, for the present turn of events
+suited his own plans to perfection.
+
+My lord of Everingham was away in Scotland, and news travelled slowly
+these days. As for the Queen, she had nothing on which to found her
+suspicions, save her own hatred of the girl and the firm conviction that
+on that same night, an hour or two before the murder, Ursula and Wessex
+had met. She had then seen and upbraided the girl in the presence of my
+lord Cardinal and the ladies; His Grace was not there then, but what
+happened immediately afterwards?
+
+Had she but dared, Mary Tudor would have submitted her rival to mental
+and bodily torture, until she had extracted a confession from her. All
+she could do was to confine her to her own room in the Palace; she would
+not lose sight of her, although the young girl had begged for permission
+to quit the Court and retire to a convent, for the silence and peace of
+which she felt an unutterable longing.
+
+The Duke's trial by his peers was fixed for the morrow.
+
+It was but a fortnight since that fateful evening. His Grace had been in
+the Tower since then, and by virtue of his high influence and of his
+exceptional position had demanded and readily obtained a speedy trial.
+
+Twenty-four hours in which a queen might perchance still save the man
+she loved from a shameful and ignominious death. And she had thought and
+schemed and suffered during fourteen days, as perhaps no other woman had
+ever thought and suffered before. She was queen, yet felt herself
+powerless to accomplish the one desire of her life, which she would have
+bartered her kingdom to obtain: the life of the man she loved.
+
+But to-day she had pluckily dried her tears. The whole morning she had
+spent at her toilette, carefully selecting--with an agitation which
+would have been ridiculous, considering her age and appearance, had it
+not been so intensely pathetic--the raiment which she thought would
+become her most. She had a burning desire to appear attractive.
+
+Earnestly she studied the lines of her face, covered incipient wrinkles
+and faded cheeks with cosmetics, spent nigh on an hour in the
+arrangement of her coif. Then she repaired to a small room, which was
+hung with tapestry of a dull red, and into which the fading afternoon
+light would only peep very gently and discreetly.
+
+Since then she had paced that narrow room incessantly and impatiently.
+Every few moments she rang a handbell, and to the stolid page or
+servitor in attendance she repeated the same anxious query--
+
+"Is the guard in sight yet?"
+
+"Not yet, Your Majesty," reiterated the page for the tenth time that
+day.
+
+It was nigh on three o'clock in the afternoon when the Duchess of
+Lincoln at last came with the welcome news.
+
+"The captain of the guard desires to report to Your Majesty that the
+Tower Guard, with His Grace the Duke of Wessex, are at the gates of the
+Palace."
+
+Mary, with her usual characteristic gesture, pressed her hand to her
+heart, unable to speak with the sudden emotion which had sent the blood
+throbbing in her veins. The kind old Duchess, her wrinkled face
+expressive of the deepest sorrow and the most respectful sympathy,
+waited patiently until the Queen had recovered herself.
+
+"'Tis well," said Mary, after a while. "I pray you. Duchess, to see that
+His Grace is introduced in here at once."
+
+When she was alone she fell upon her knees, a great sob shook her
+delicate frame. She took her rosary from her girdle and with passionate
+fervour kissed the jewelled beads.
+
+"Holy Mary, Mother of God!" she murmured amidst her tears, "make him
+listen to me! . . . pray for me . . . intercede for me, Queen of Heaven,
+mystic rose, tower of ivory, holy virgin, our mother . . . pray for me
+now . . . I would save him, and I would make him King. . . . Queen of
+Heaven, aid me . . . Mother of God, make him to love me . . . make him
+. . . to love me! . . ."
+
+After that she rose, and carefully wiped her tears. She cast a glance
+at a small mirror which stood on the table, smoothed her hair and coif
+and forced her lips to smile.
+
+The next moment there was a knock at the door, a clash of arms, the
+sound of voices, and two minutes later His Grace of Wessex was in the
+presence of the Queen.
+
+She held out her hand to him and he stooped to kiss it. This gave her
+time to recover outward composure. Her fond heart ached at sight of him,
+for he seemed so altered. All the gaiety, the joy of life, that buoyancy
+of youth and ever-ready laughter which had always been his own peculiar
+charm, had completely gone from him: he looked older too, she thought,
+whilst his step even had lost its elasticity.
+
+Mary motioned him to a seat close beside her. She herself had wisely
+chosen so to place her chair that the light from the window, whilst
+falling full on him, left her own figure in shadow.
+
+"I trust, my lord," she began with a trembling voice, "that my guard at
+the Tower are showing you all the deference and doing you all the honour
+which I have commanded, and that your every comfort in that abode of
+evil hath been well looked to?"
+
+"Your Majesty is ever gracious," replied Wessex, "far more than I
+deserve. The kindness shown me by every one at the Tower hath been a
+source of the deepest happiness to me."
+
+"Nay! if I could . . ." began Mary impulsively.
+
+Then she checked herself, determined not to let emotion get the better
+of her, ere she had told him all that she wished to say.
+
+"My lord of Wessex," she resumed more firmly, "will you try to think
+that you are before a sincere and devoted friend; not before your Queen,
+but beside a woman who hath naught so much at heart as . . . your
+happiness? . . . Will you try?"
+
+"The effort will not be great," he replied with a smile. "Your Majesty's
+kindness hath oft shamed me ere this."
+
+"Then, if you value my friendship, my lord," rejoined Mary vehemently,
+"give me some assurance that to-morrow, before your judges and your
+peers, you will refute this odious charge which is brought against you."
+
+"I crave Your Majesty's most humble pardon," said Wessex. "I have made
+confession of the crime imputed to me and can refute nothing."
+
+"Nay, my lord, this is madness. You, the most gallant gentleman in
+England, you, to have done a deed so foul as would shame the lowest
+churl! Bah!" she added, with a bitter laugh, "'twere a grim farce, if it
+were not so terrible a tragedy!"
+
+"Nay! not a tragedy, Your Majesty. Better men than I have made a failure
+of their lives. So I pray you, think no more of me."
+
+"Think no more of you, dear lord," said Mary, with an infinity of
+reproach in her voice. "Ah me, I think of naught else since that awful
+night when they came and told me that you . . ."
+
+There was a catch in her throat and perforce she had to pause. Oh! the
+irony of fate! The bitter satire of that wanton god, called Love!
+
+Wessex looked at this proud Tudor Queen with a deep reverence, in which
+there was almost a thought of pity. This lonely, middle-aged woman,
+passionate, self-willed, who loved him with all the tenderness of
+pent-up motherhood! yet, try how he might! he could only respond to her
+true affection with cold respect and deep but unimpassioned gratitude!
+Yet was not her worth ten thousandfold more great than that of the
+wanton, whose image still filled his heart?
+
+The one woman he honoured, the other he must perforce despise, and
+yet--such is the heart of man--he was more ready than ever to give up
+life, honour, a great name, and still greater destiny, so that the
+worthless object of his whole-hearted affection should be spared public
+disgrace.
+
+He would not have named Ursula Glynde in this chaste, virgin Queen's
+presence, the very remembrance of that awful night was a pollution, but
+proud and haughty as he was, he dwelt on that memory, for it was the
+last which he had of her.
+
+Mad, foolish, criminal, sublime Love! The sin of the loved one was
+dearer to him than all the virtues of which other women were capable,
+and whilst Mary Tudor would have given him a crown, he found it sweeter
+far to accept ignominy for Ursula's sake.
+
+Perhaps something of all these thoughts which went on in his mind was
+reflected in his face, for Mary, who had been watching him keenly, said
+after a while with a tone of bitter resentment--
+
+"My lord, I know that your silence over this mysterious affair is
+maintained out of a chivalrous desire to shield another . . . a woman.
+. . . Ah, consider. . . ."
+
+"I have considered," replied Wessex firmly, "and I entreat Your Majesty
+. . ."
+
+"Nay! 'tis I who entreat," she interrupted him vehemently. "Let us look
+facts in the face, my lord. Think you we are all fools to believe in
+your cock-and-bull story? A woman was seen that night flying from the
+Palace across the terrace . . . who was she? . . . whence did she come?
+. . . None of the watch could see her face, and the louts were too
+stupid to run after her . . . but there are those within this Court at
+this moment who will swear that that woman was Ursula Glynde."
+
+Strangely enough this was the first time, since that fatal night, that
+this name was actually spoken in Wessex' hearing: it seemed to sting him
+like the cut of a lash across his face. For that one brief instant he
+lost his icy self-control, and Mary saw him wince.
+
+"Ursula has been questioned," she continued, "but she remains obdurately
+silent. Believe me, my lord, you waste your chivalry in defence of a
+wanton."
+
+But already Wessex had recovered himself.
+
+"Your Majesty is mistaken," he rejoined calmly. "I know naught of Lady
+Ursula Glynde, and I defend no one by confessing my crime."
+
+"You'll not persist in that insensate confession."
+
+"'Twill not be necessary, Your Majesty, my judges have it in full, writ
+by mine own hand."
+
+"You'll recant it."
+
+"Why should I? 'Twas done willingly, in full possession of my faculties,
+under no compulsion."
+
+"You'll recant it!" she persisted obstinately.
+
+"Why should I?"
+
+"Because I ask it of you," she said with great gentleness, "because I
+. . ."
+
+She rose from her chair, and came closer to him. Then as he,
+respectfully, would have risen too, she placed a detaining hand upon his
+shoulder.
+
+"Listen, my lord," she said, "for I've thought of it all. . . . This is
+not a moment when foolish prejudices and mock modesty should stand in
+the way of so great an issue. . . . I would throw my soul, my future
+life, my chances of paradise on that one stake--your innocence. . . ."
+
+"Your Majesty . . ."
+
+"Nay, I pray you, do not waste these few valuable minutes in vain
+protestations, which I'll not believe. . . . There's not a sane man in
+this country who thinks you guilty. . . . Yet on this confession your
+judges and peers will condemn you to death . . . must condemn you, so
+that the law of England is satisfied--and you, my lord, will suffer
+death with a lie upon your lips."
+
+"The truth," rejoined Wessex firmly; "'twas I killed the Marquis de
+Suarez."
+
+"A lie, my lord, a lie," protested Mary passionately; "the first you've
+ever told, the last you'll be allowed to breathe. . . . But let it pass.
+. . . I'll not torture your pride by forcing you to repeat that
+monstrous tale again. Would I could wrench her secret from the cowardly
+lips of that hussy. . . . Oh! if I were a man . . . a king like my
+father! . . . I'd have her broken on the wheel, tortured on the rack,
+whipped, lacerated, burnt, but I'd have the truth from her!"
+
+Wessex took her hand in his. She was trembling from head to foot. The
+inward, real Mary Tudor had risen to the surface for this one brief
+moment. All the cruelty in her, which in after life made this wretched
+woman's name the byword of history, seemed just then to smother her very
+womanhood, her every tender thought. At the touch of Wessex' hand she
+paused suddenly, shamed and in tears, that he should have seen her like
+this.
+
+"Before she came you said many sweet words to me," she murmured, as if
+trying to find an excuse for her terrible outburst. "Ah! I know . . . I
+know . . ." she added, with a bitter tone of melancholy, "you never
+loved me . . . how could you? . . . Men like you do not love an
+ill-favoured creature like me, old, bad-tempered . . . with something of
+the brute under the queenly robes. . . . But . . . you had affection for
+me once, my dear lord . . . and an unimpassioned love can bring
+happiness sometimes. . . . I would soon make you forget these last
+terrible days . . . and . . ."
+
+Her voice had sunk down very low, almost to a whisper now, the hand,
+which he still held in his own, trembled violently and became burning
+hot.
+
+"And no one would dare to whisper ill of the King Consort of England."
+
+He turned to her; she was standing beside him, her hand imprisoned in
+his, her face bent so that he could not meet her eyes. But there was
+such an infinity of pathos in the attitude of this domineering, haughty
+woman wilfully humbling her pride before her love, that with a tender
+feeling of reverence he bent the knee before her and tenderly kissed her
+hand.
+
+"Ah, my sweet Queen," he said with gentle sadness, "I am and always will
+be your most devoted subject--but do you not see how impossible it is
+that I should accept this great honour, which you would deign to confer
+upon me?"
+
+"You refuse? Is it that you have not one spark of love for me?"
+
+"I have far too much veneration for my Queen to allow her to sully her
+fair name. If being avowedly guilty I were acquitted by Your Majesty's
+desire, 'twould be said the Queen had saved her lover . . . and then
+married a felon."
+
+"I would stake mine honour, that no one shall dare . . ."
+
+"Honour is already lost, my Queen, once it is at stake."
+
+"But I will save you," cried Mary with ever-increasing vehemence, "in
+spite of yourself, in spite of your confessions, in spite of all these
+lies and deceptions. . . . I'll save you in the very teeth of your
+judges and your peers, and proclaim to the whole world that I saved
+you--guilty or not guilty, proud gentleman or felon--because my name is
+Mary Tudor, and that there is no law in England outside my will."
+
+Pride and passion almost beautified her. Her love for this man was the
+one soft, tender trait in her strange and complex character, but
+Tudor-like she _would_ have her way, she would rule his destiny, command
+his fate, tear and destroy everything around her so long as her caprice
+held sway. But he had suddenly risen to his feet, and stood confronting
+her now, tall and erect, with a pride as great, as obstinate as her own,
+a haughty dignity which neither Queen nor destiny, neither sorrow,
+disgrace or fear had the power to bend.
+
+"Ere that dishonour fall upon us both, Your Majesty," he said firmly,
+"the last Duke of Wessex will lie in a suicide's grave."
+
+Her eyes were fixed upon his, and he, carried away by the poignancy of
+this supreme battle fought by his pride against her passion, allowed her
+to read his innermost thoughts. He had nothing to hide from her now, not
+even his love, miserable and desperate as it was: but he wanted her to
+know that not even at this fateful moment, when he stood 'twixt a
+scaffold and a crown, did he waver in the firm resolve which had guided
+him throughout his life.
+
+He would _not_ become the tool and minion of a Tudor queen--loving
+enough now, but endowed with all the vices and all the arrogance of her
+race; he would not barter his life in order to become the butt of
+contending political factions, the toy of ambitious parties, flattered
+by some, hated by most, despised by all. A courtier, a lapdog, an
+invertebrate creature without power or dignity.
+
+Bah! the hangman's rope was less degrading!
+
+And Mary, as she read all this in the expressive eyes which met hers
+fully and unwaveringly, realized that her cause was lost. She had staked
+everything on this one final appeal, but she, a Tudor, had struck
+against an obstinacy greater than her own. She could not flatter, she
+could not bribe, and he was--by the very hopelessness of his present
+position--beyond the reach of threats or punishment.
+
+He saw that her heart was admitting that she was vanquished. The
+hardness within him melted into pity.
+
+"Believe me, my Queen," he said gently, "the memory of your kind words
+will accompany me to my life's end, it will cheer me to-morrow and
+sustain me to the last. And now for pity's sake," he added earnestly,
+"may I entreat Your Majesty to order the guard . . . and to let me go."
+
+"That is not your last word, my lord," urged Mary with the insistence of
+a desperate cause. "Think. . . ."
+
+"I have thought--much," he replied quietly. "Life holds nothing very
+tempting at best, does it? The honour of the Queen of England and mine
+own self-esteem were too heavy a price to pay for so worthless a
+trifle."
+
+Mary would have spoken again, but just then there was a discreet knock
+at the door twice repeated. She had perforce to say--
+
+"Enter!" and the next moment a page-in-waiting stood bowing before her.
+
+"What is it?" she demanded.
+
+"The Lord High Steward has arrived at the Palace, Your Majesty,"
+announced the page, "and the Lieutenant of the Tower demands the
+prisoner."
+
+"'Tis well! you may go."
+
+"The Lieutenant of the Tower awaits Your Majesty's pleasure and His
+Grace of Wessex in the next room."
+
+"'Tis well. The Lieutenant may wait."
+
+The page bowed again and retired.
+
+Then only did Mary Tudor's self-control entirely desert her. Forgetting
+all her dignity and pride, her self-will and masterfulness, she clung to
+the man she loved with passionate ardour, sobbing and entreating.
+
+"No! no!--they shall not take you!--they dare not! Say but one word to
+me, my dear lord . . . what is it to you?--'twere all my life to me.
+. . . What should we care for the opinion of the world?--Am I not above
+it? . . . so will you be when you are King of England. . . ."
+
+Wessex had need of all his firmness, and of all his courage, to free
+himself as gently as he could from her clinging arms. He waited until
+her half-hysterical paroxysm of grief had subsided, smoothing with
+tender hand her moist hair and burning forehead. She was a woman beside
+herself with grief, almost sublime in this hour of madness.
+
+"I will not let you go!" she repeated persistently.
+
+Through the door there came the sound of a slight clash of arms. The
+Lieutenant of the Tower and his guard were impatiently waiting for their
+prisoner. Wessex saw Mary's whole figure stiffen at this muffled sound.
+Like an enraged animal she turned towards the door. For one second he
+wondered what she would do, how much humiliation her uncontrolled
+passion would heap upon him, through some mad, impulsive action. He
+jumped to his feet, and, regardless of all save the imminence of this
+critical moment, he seized both her wrists in an iron grip, striving
+through the infliction of this physical pain to bring back her wandering
+senses.
+
+She looked him straight in the face with a tender and appealing gaze
+
+"Did you not know that I loved you even to humiliation?" she said.
+
+"May God and all His angels bless you for that love," he replied
+earnestly, "but before Him and them I swear to you that if you do not
+allow the justice of your realm to have its will with me, I'll not
+survive your own disgrace and mine."
+
+She closed her eyes, trying to shut out that picture of unbendable
+determination expressed in his whole attitude, and which she at last
+felt that nothing would conquer. The rigidity of her figure relaxed,
+the fury died out from her heart, she only felt inexpressibly sorrowful,
+helpless and broken-hearted.
+
+"God be with you, my dear lord," she whispered.
+
+He kissed her hands: all the fever had gone out of them, they were icy
+cold: there was neither arrogance nor obstinacy in her face now, her
+eyes were still closed, and one by one, heavy tears fell down her wan
+cheeks.
+
+The pathos of her helplessness and of her crushed pride made a strong
+appeal to the sentiments of tender loyalty which he had always felt for
+her, who was his Queen and Liege Lady. He saw that she was determined
+not to break down, that she was gathering all her courage for the
+supreme farewell.
+
+"I beseech Your Majesty to allow me to order the guard," he urged.
+
+She tottered and would have fallen, had he not put out his arm to
+support her.
+
+"Do not forget that you are a Tudor and a Queen, and remember," he added
+quaintly, as her head fell against his shoulder, "remember . . . I am
+only a man!"
+
+He led her back to her seat, then he touched the handbell, and when the
+page appeared he said firmly--
+
+"I am at the Lieutenant's service."
+
+He knelt once more before the Queen and finally bade her farewell. She
+could neither speak nor move, and scarcely had the strength to take a
+last look at the loved one, as with a firm step he passed out of her
+sight.
+
+There was a clash of steel against steel, a few words of command, the
+sound of retreating footsteps, then silence.
+
+Queen Mary Tudor was alone with her grief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+A BARGAIN
+
+
+But Mary would not have been the woman she was if she admitted a
+failure, whilst there was still a chance of victory.
+
+The first half-hour after Wessex' departure she gave way to weakness and
+to a flood of tears, she turned to her prie-Dieu and prayed fervently
+for resignation to the heavenly will, for strength to bear her cross.
+
+"Holy Mother of our crucified Lord, pray for me now and at the hour of
+_his_ death," was the burden of her passionate orisons.
+
+"Take my life since _he_ must die," she added, striking her breast and
+falling prostrate before the holy images.
+
+And then reaction set in. She felt more calm after her prayers, and
+began to think more clearly. The inevitableness of a catastrophe seemed
+to become less tangible, a persistent and hopeful "if" crept in amongst
+her desperate litanies. She dried her tears, rang for her waiting-woman,
+had her face bathed with soothing, scented waters, her temples rubbed
+with perfumed vinegar.
+
+All the while now she repeated to herself--
+
+"I _will_ save him . . . I _will_ save him . . . but how? . . . how?"
+
+She had less than twenty-four hours in which to do it, and she had spent
+fourteen days previously in the same endeavour, without arriving at any
+definite plan, save the one which had so signally failed just now.
+
+"If being found guilty I were acquitted at Your Majesty's desire,
+'twould be said the Queen had saved her lover--and then married a
+felon!" was his sole reply to her impassioned query whether he loved her
+and would be saved by her command.
+
+She would have been content to lose her honour for his sake, he would
+not even jeopardize his own self-esteem for hers. If he had one spark of
+love for her he would have been content to challenge the opinion of the
+world, whilst accepting his life at her hands, but he cared naught about
+death, and all the world for another woman who was false, a coward, a
+wanton, and who boldly allowed him to sacrifice his honour for her,
+whilst she herself had none to lose.
+
+"Then I will save him in spite of himself," repeated Mary for the
+hundredth time.
+
+Suddenly a thought struck her. She rang her hand-bell, and to the
+servitor who appeared at the door she commanded briefly--
+
+"His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno;--I desire his presence here at
+once."
+
+The servitor retired, and she waited in seeming calm, sitting at her
+desk, her trembling hand alone betraying the excitement of her mind.
+
+Five minutes later, the Cardinal stood before her, placid, urbane,
+picturesque in his brilliant, flowing robes, with one white, richly
+be-ringed hand raised in benediction, as he stood waiting for the Queen
+to speak.
+
+"I pray Your Eminence to be seated," began Mary, speaking with feverish
+haste. "I have something of grave import to say to you, which brooks of
+no delay, else I had not interrupted you at your orisons."
+
+"My time is ever at Your Majesty's service," replied the Cardinal
+humbly. "In what way may I have the honour to serve the Queen of England
+to-day?"
+
+He was looking keenly at her face: not a single sign of her intense
+mental agitation escaped his shrewd observation. A satisfied smile
+lurked round the corners of his thin lips, and a flash of triumph lit up
+the depths of his piercing eyes.
+
+That searching glance at Mary Tudor had told the envoy of the King of
+Spain that victory was at last within his grasp.
+
+"My lord Cardinal," rejoined Mary firmly, "you are aware of the fact
+that His Grace of Wessex is on the eve of being tried by his peers, for
+a heinous crime of which he is innocent."
+
+"I am aware," replied the Cardinal gently, "that His Grace stands
+self-convicted of the murder of my friend and colleague Don Miguel,
+Marquis de Suarez, a guest at Your Majesty's Court."
+
+"Truce on this folly, my lord," retorted Mary impatiently, "you know
+just as well as I do, that His Grace is incapable of any such act of
+cowardice, and that some mystery, which no one can fathom, lies at the
+bottom of this monstrous self-accusation."
+
+"Whatever may be my own feelings in this matter, Your Majesty," said His
+Eminence, still speaking very guardedly, "I was forced to accomplish my
+duty, when I made and signed my deposition, which I fear me has gone far
+towards confirming the guilt of His Grace."
+
+"I have heard of your deposition, my lord. It rests on your finding His
+Grace's dagger. . . ."
+
+"Beside the body of the murdered man, and still stained with Don
+Miguel's blood."
+
+"What of that? Some one else must have used the dagger."
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"You did not suggest this in your deposition."
+
+"It was not asked of me by His Grace's judges."
+
+"There is time to make a further statement."
+
+"It could but be in consonance with what I have already said."
+
+"And your servant?"
+
+"Pasquale?"
+
+"He lied when he averred that he heard angry words 'twixt His Grace and
+Don Miguel."
+
+"He has sworn it upon oath. Pasquale is a good Catholic, and would not
+commit the deadly sin of perjury."
+
+"You are fencing with me, my lord," said Mary Tudor with sudden
+vehemence.
+
+"I but await Your Majesty's command!" rejoined His Eminence blandly.
+
+"My command?" she said firmly. "This, my lord, that you save His Grace
+of Wessex from the consequences of this crime, in which he had no hand."
+
+"To save His Grace of Wessex?" he ejaculated with the greatest
+astonishment, "I? and at this eleventh hour? Nay! meseems that were
+impossible."
+
+"Then Your Eminence can set your wits to attempt the impossible,"
+rejoined Mary curtly.
+
+"But why should Your Majesty suggest this strange task to me?" he urged
+with the same well-feigned surprise.
+
+"Because Your Eminence hath more brains than most."
+
+"Your Majesty is too gracious."
+
+"And because you have the success of your own schemes more at heart than
+most," added the Queen significantly.
+
+"Then, if I do not succeed in effecting the impossible, Your Majesty, am
+I to be sent back to Spain ignominiously to-morrow?" queried the
+Cardinal with more than a soupcon of sarcasm.
+
+"No!" rejoined Mary quietly, "but if you succeed I will give you in
+reward anything which you may ask."
+
+"Anything, my daughter? Even your hand in marriage to King Philip of
+Spain?"
+
+"If Your Eminence succeeds in effecting the impossible," replied Mary
+firmly, "I will marry King Philip of Spain."
+
+There was silence for a moment or two. His Eminence was meditating. Not
+that he had been taken unawares. For the past fortnight he had been
+expecting some such interview as the Queen had now demanded at the
+eleventh hour. He was far-seeing and shrewd enough to have anticipated
+that, sooner or later, Mary Tudor would propose a bargain, whereby he
+would be expected to pit his wits against Fate, and thereby earn the
+victory which she knew he coveted. The task was a difficult one; not
+impossible--for the Cardinal never admitted that anything was
+impossible. But he was peculiarly placed, and he knew the value of royal
+promises and of royal compacts. This one he thought he could enforce,
+but only if his methods were above suspicion. To have confessed the
+whole dastardly intrigue of that eventful night would certainly have
+saved the Duke from condemnation, but the tale itself would so disgust
+these stiff-necked Britishers, that Mary would see herself easily
+released from her promise through unanimous public opinion.
+
+That simple and sure method of obtaining the Duke's acquittal was
+therefore barred to him, and he had perforce to reflect seriously, ere
+he closed with the bargain which Mary Tudor held so temptingly before
+him. His mind was clearer, less scrupulous than that of his colleagues,
+and he had most at stake now, for nothing but ultimate success could
+justify the heinousness of his methods. If his schemes failed, then
+these methods became monstrous and criminal beyond hope of pardon.
+
+For the moment the Cardinal had no remorse. The sacrifice of every piece
+in the great human game of chess was of no importance if the final
+mating of his enemies were gained. Don Miguel was dead, Lord Everingham
+far away; the wench Mirrab, terrified at her own act probably, had
+disappeared and no doubt would not be heard of again until His
+Eminence's victory was assured. This he had hoped to attain with the
+death of the Duke of Wessex and Mary's consequent grief and feebleness
+of will, always supposing that Lord Everingham did not return in time to
+ruin the whole scaffolding of his tortuous diplomacy.
+
+That was the great danger and one which was ever present before the
+Cardinal's mind: the return of Lord Everingham. Every day added to the
+danger, and it was Wessex' own impatience to see the end of his own
+shattered existence, which had up to now saved His Eminence from
+exposure.
+
+The Duke had urged that his trial should come on speedily. This was
+readily granted, for he was the Duke of Wessex still. The trial itself
+would not last more than the one day, seeing that the accused had made
+full confession and only a few secondary depositions were to be read for
+form's sake. His Grace had refused counsel, there could be no argument.
+The judges on the face of the circumstantial self-accusation were bound,
+in the name of justice, to convict and condemn, in spite of public
+opinion, in spite of the machinations of the Duke's friends, in spite
+even of the Queen's commands.
+
+Once His Grace was out of the way, His Eminence had felt that he would
+be able to breathe more freely, but until then he was living at the edge
+of a volcano, and often wondered how it had not broken out ere now.
+
+The news of the crime and of Wessex' arrest had been sent to Scotland,
+he knew that; but the way thither was long, the late October gales would
+make the journey by sea difficult, whilst the overland roads, sodden
+with the rain, were unusually bad; but in any event, Everingham was
+bound to arrive in England within the next ten days, for, of a surety,
+he would travel with mad speed on hearing the terrible news.
+
+But now Mary Tudor suddenly offered him a definite promise, a bargain
+which he could clinch before exposure had shamed him publicly. The task
+proposed was indeed difficult, but it was not impossible to such a
+far-reaching mind as that of my lord Cardinal.
+
+A few moments' deep reflection, whilst the Queen watched him eagerly,
+and he had already formed a plan.
+
+"Does Your Eminence accept the bargain?" asked Mary impatiently at last,
+seeing that he seemed disinclined to break the silence.
+
+"I accept it, Your Majesty," he replied quietly.
+
+"You have my royal promise if you succeed."
+
+"If His Grace to-morrow is acquitted by his judges, through my
+intervention," said His Eminence, "I will claim Your Majesty's promise
+in the evening."
+
+"Your Eminence can have a document ready and I will sign it."
+
+"It shall be done as Your Majesty directs."
+
+"Then I'll bid Your Eminence farewell, until to-morrow."
+
+"I am ever at Your Majesty's service. But before retiring I would crave
+one favour."
+
+"I pray you speak."
+
+"To speak to the Lady Ursula Glynde."
+
+A long bitter laugh of the keenest disappointment came from Mary Tudor's
+oppressed heart.
+
+"Nay!" she said in a tone of deep discouragement, "an you pin your faith
+on that hussy, Your Eminence had best give up the attempt at once."
+
+"Did I not say that I would attempt the impossible?" said the Cardinal,
+unperturbed.
+
+"The impossible indeed, an you wish to appeal to that wench," retorted
+Mary drily.
+
+"Have I Your Majesty's permission to speak to the lady?" persisted the
+Cardinal blandly.
+
+Mary shrugged her shoulders impatiently. She was terribly disappointed.
+All her hopes had been built on the clever machinations of this man, on
+some tortuous means which his brain would surely evolve if she held out
+a sufficiently tempting bait to him. She had half endowed him with
+supernatural powers . . . and now . . . an empty scheme to make an
+appeal to that heartless coward, who might save Wessex, yet refused to
+do it!
+
+But the Cardinal was smiling: he looked a rare picture of benevolence
+and dignity, with those white hands of his which seemed ever ready for a
+caress. He looked triumphant too, his eyes were eagerly fixed upon her
+as if her consent to the useless interview was of great and supreme
+moment. To her the appeal to Ursula did not even seem to be a last
+straw, but something far more ephemeral, intangible, a breath from some
+mocking demon. Yet the Cardinal looked so satisfied. She shrugged her
+shoulders again, as if dismissing all hope, all responsibility, all
+interest, but she said nevertheless--
+
+"When does Your Eminence desire to see her?"
+
+"To-morrow in the Lord Chancellor's Court," he replied, "half an hour
+before the arrival of the Lord High Steward. Can that be done?"
+
+"It shall be, since Your Eminence wishes it."
+
+"And to-night I will announce the joyful news by special messenger to
+the King of Spain," he added significantly.
+
+"Is Your Eminence so sure of success then?"
+
+"As sure as I am of the fact that the Queen of England is the most
+gracious lady in Europe," he replied, with all the courtly grace which
+he knew so well how to assume. "I pray you then to trust in God," he
+concluded earnestly, "and in the devotion of Your Majesty's humble
+servant."
+
+He took his leave ceremoniously, with pompous dignity, as was his wont.
+She did not care to prolong the interview, and nodded listlessly when he
+prepared to go. She felt more than ever hopeless and angered with
+herself for having clinched a bargain with that man.
+
+But His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno left the presence of the Queen
+of England with a smile of satisfaction and a sigh of anticipated
+triumph.
+
+It was not an appeal which he meant to address to the Lady Ursula
+Glynde.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+IN THE LORD CHANCELLOR'S COURT
+
+
+The great Hall at Westminster was already thronged with people at an
+early hour of the morning, and the servants of the Knight Marshal and
+the Lord Warden of the Fleet had much ado to keep the crowd back with
+their tipstaves.
+
+All London was taking a holiday to-day: an enforced holiday as far as
+the workers and merchants were concerned, for there surely would be no
+business doing in the City when such great goings-on were occurring at
+Westminster.
+
+The trial of His Grace the Duke of Wessex on a charge of murder! A trial
+which, seeing that the accused had confessed to the crime, could but end
+in a sentence of death.
+
+It is not every day that it is given to humbler folk to see so proud a
+gentleman arraigned as any common vagabond might be, and to note how a
+great nobleman may look when threatened with the hangman's rope.
+
+Is there aught in the world half so cruel as a crowd?
+
+And His Grace had been very popular: always looked upon, even by the
+meanest in the land, as the most perfect embodiment of English pride and
+English grandeur, he had always had withal that certain graciousness of
+manner which the populace will love, and which disarms envy.
+
+But with the exception of his own friends, people of his own rank and
+station, who knew him and his character intimately, the people at large
+never for a moment questioned his guilt.
+
+He had confessed! surely that was enough! The loutish brains of the
+lower proletariat did not care to go beyond that obvious self-evident
+fact. The meaner the nature of a man, the more ready is he to
+acknowledge evil, he seeks it out, recognizes it under every garb. Who,
+among the majority of people, cared to seek for sublime self-sacrifice
+in an ordinary confession of crime?
+
+The wiseacres and learned men, the more wealthy burgesses, and people of
+more consideration, were content with a few philosophical reflections
+anent the instability of human nature and the evil influences of Court
+life and of great wealth.
+
+No one cared about the man! it was the pageant they all liked. What
+thought had the mob of the agonizing rack to which a proud soul would
+necessarily be subjected during the course of a wearisome and elaborate
+trial? They only wanted to see a show, the robes of the judges, the
+assembly of peers, and that one central figure, the first gentleman in
+England, once almost a king--now a felon!
+
+A fine sight, my masters! His Grace of Wessex in a criminal dock!
+
+Places in the Hall were at a premium. The 'prentices were well to the
+fore as usual; like so many eel-like creatures, they had slipped into
+the front rank as soon as the great doors had been opened. Some few
+waifs and vagrants--acute and greedy of gain--were making good trade
+with small wooden benches, which they sold at threepence the piece to
+those who desired a better view.
+
+The women were all wearing becoming gowns, sombre of hue as befitted the
+occasion. His Grace of Wessex was noted for his avowed admiration for
+the beautiful sex. They had all brought large white kerchiefs, for they
+anticipated some exquisite emotions. His Grace was so handsome! there
+was sure to be an occasion for tears.
+
+But only as a pleasurable sentiment! Like one feels at the play, where
+the actor expresses feelings, yet is himself cold and unimpassioned.
+What His Grace himself would feel was never considered. The crowd had
+come to see, some had paid threepence for a clearer sight of the
+accused, and all meant to enjoy themselves this day.
+
+Proud Wessex! thou hast sunk to this, a spectacle for a common holiday!
+Thy face will be scanned lest one twitch escape! thy shoulders if they
+stoop, thy neck if it bend! A thousand eyes will be fixed upon thee in
+curiosity, in derision--perchance in pity!
+
+Ye gods, what a fall!
+
+The Lord High Steward of England was expected to arrive at ten o'clock.
+In the centre of the great court a large scaffold had been erected, not
+far from the Lord Chancellor's Court. In the middle of this there was
+placed a chair higher than the rest and covered with a cloth, which bore
+the royal arms embroidered at the four corners.
+
+This was for my Lord High Steward.
+
+Each side of him were the seats for the peers who were to be the triers.
+Great names were whispered, as the servants of the Knight Marshal
+arranged these in their respective places. There was the chair for the
+Earl of Kent, and my lord of Sussex, the Earl of Hertford, and Lord
+Saint John of Basing, and a score of others, for there were twenty-four
+triers in all.
+
+On a lower form were the seats for the judges, and in a hollow place cut
+in the scaffold itself, and immediately at the feet of my Lord High
+Steward, the Clerk of the Crown would sit with his secondary.
+
+And facing the judges and the peers was the bar, where presently the
+exalted prisoner would stand.
+
+No one was here yet of the greater personages, the servants were still
+busy putting everything to right, but some gentlemen of the Queen's
+household had already arrived, and several noble lords who would be mere
+spectators. His Grace's friends could easily be distinguished by the
+sombreness of their garb and the air of grief upon their faces. Mr.
+Thomas Norton, the Queen's printer, was sorting his papers and cutting
+his pens, and two gentlemen ushers were receiving final instructions
+from Garter King-at-Arms.
+
+There was indeed plenty for the idlers to see. Great ropes had been
+drawn across the further portions of the Hall, leaving a wide passage
+from the main entrance right down the centre and up to the Lord High
+Steward's seat. Behind these ropes the crowd was forcibly kept back. And
+the gossip and the noise went on apace. Laughter too and merry jests,
+for this was a holiday, my masters, presently to be brought to a
+close--after the death sentence had been passed and every one
+dispersed--with lively jousts and copious sacks of ale.
+
+But of all this excitement and bustle not a sound penetrated within the
+precincts of the Lord Chancellor's Court, where His Eminence the
+Cardinal de Moreno sat patiently waiting.
+
+Desirous above all things of escaping observation, he had driven over
+from Hampton Court in the early dawn, and wrapped in a flowing black
+cloak, which effectually hid his purple robes, he had slipped into the
+Hall and thence into the Inner Court, even before the crowd had begun to
+collect. Since then he had sat here quietly buried in thoughts, calmly
+looking forward to the interview, which was destined finally to unravel
+the tangled skein of his own diplomacy. Once more the destinies of
+Europe were hanging on a thread: a girl's love for a man.
+
+Well! so be it! His Eminence loved these palpitating situations, these
+hairbreadth escapes from perilous positions which were the wine and salt
+of his existence. He was ready to stake his whole future career upon a
+woman's love! He, who had scoffed all his life at sentimental passions,
+who had used every emotion of the human heart, aye! and its every
+suffering, merely as so many assets in the account of his far-reaching
+policy, he now saw his whole future depending on the strength of a
+girl's feelings.
+
+That she would certainly come, he never for a moment held in doubt. In
+these days the commands of a sovereign were akin to the dictates of God;
+to disobey was a matter of treason. Aye! she would come, sure enough!
+not only because of her allegiance to the Queen, but because of her
+intense, vital interest in the great trial of the day.
+
+So His Eminence waited patiently in the Lord Chancellor's Court, which
+gave straight into the great Hall itself, until the appointed time.
+
+Exactly at half-past nine the door of the room was opened, and Ursula
+Glynde walked in. The Cardinal rose from his seat and would have
+approached her, but she retreated a step or two as he came near and said
+coldly--
+
+"'Tis Your Eminence who desired my presence?"
+
+"And 'tis well that you came, my daughter," he replied kindly.
+
+"I was commanded by Her Majesty to attend; I had not come of my own free
+will."
+
+She spoke quietly but very stiffly, as one who is merely performing a
+social duty, without either pleasure or dislike. The Cardinal studied
+her face keenly, but obviously she had been told nothing by the Queen as
+to the precise object of this interview.
+
+She looked pale and wan: there was a look of acute suffering round the
+childlike mouth, which would have seemed pathetic to any one save to
+this callous dissector of human hearts. Her eyes appeared unnaturally
+large, with great dilated pupils and dry eyelids. She was dressed in
+deep black, with a thick veil over her golden hair, which gave her a
+nunlike appearance, and altogether made her look older, and strangely
+different from the gay and girlish figure so full of life and animation
+which had been one of the brightest ornaments of old Hampton Court
+Palace. The Cardinal motioned her to a seat, which she took, then she
+waited with perfect composure until His Eminence chose to speak.
+
+"My child," he said at last, bringing his voice down to tones of the
+greatest gentleness, "I would wish you to remember that it is an old man
+who speaks to you: one who has seen much of the world, learnt much,
+understood much. Will you try and trust him?"
+
+"What does Your Eminence desire of me?" she rejoined coldly.
+
+"Nay! 'tis not a question of desire, my daughter, I would merely wish to
+give you some advice."
+
+"I am listening to Your Eminence."
+
+[Illustration: "I am listening to Your Eminence."]
+
+The Cardinal had taken the precaution of placing himself with his back
+to the light which entered, grey and mournful, through the tall leaded
+window above. He was sitting near a table covered with writing
+materials, and in a large high-backed tapestried chair, which further
+enhanced the ponderous dignity of his appearance, whilst helping to
+envelop his face in complete shadow. Ursula sat opposite to him on a low
+stool, that same grey light falling full upon her pale face, which was
+turned serenely, quite impassively upon her interlocutor.
+
+His Eminence rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and his head in
+his delicate white hands. The purple robes fell round him in majestic
+folds, the gold crucifix at his breast sparkled with jewels: he was a
+past master in the art of _mise-en-scene_, and knew the full value of
+impressive pauses and of effective attitudes during a momentous
+conversation, more especially when he had to deal with a woman. His
+present silence helped to set the young girl's aching nerves on edge,
+and he noticed with a sense of inward satisfaction that her composure
+was not as profound as she would have him think: there was a distinct
+tremor in the delicate nostrils, a jerkiness in the movements of her
+hand, as she smoothed out the folds of her sombre gown.
+
+"My dear child," he began once more, and this time in tones of more
+pronounced severity, "a brave man, a good and chivalrous gentleman, is
+about to suffer not only death, but horrible disgrace. . . . On the
+other side of these thin walls the preparations are ready for his trial
+by a group of men, whose duty it will be anon to allow the justice of
+this realm to take its relentless course. The accused will stand
+self-convicted, yet innocent, before them."
+
+Once more the Cardinal paused: only for a second this time. He noticed
+that the young girl had visibly shuddered, but she made no attempt to
+speak.
+
+"Innocent, I repeat it," he resumed after a while. "His Grace has many
+friends; not one of them will believe that he could be capable of so
+foul a crime. But he has confessed to it. He will be condemned, and
+he--the proudest man in England--will die a felon's death. . . ."
+
+"I knew all that, Your Eminence," she said quietly. "Why should you
+repeat it now?"
+
+"Only because . . ." said the Cardinal with seeming hesitation, "you
+must forgive an old man, my child . . . methought you loved His Grace of
+Wessex and . . ."
+
+"Why does Your Eminence pause?" she rejoined. "You thought that I loved
+His Grace of Wessex . . . and . . . ?"
+
+"And yet, my child, through a strange, nay, a culpable obstinacy, you,
+who could save him not only from death, but also from dishonour, you
+remain silent!"
+
+"Your Eminence errs, as every one else has erred," she replied with the
+same cold placidity; "I am silent because I have naught to say."
+
+The Cardinal smiled with kind indulgence, like a father who understands
+and forgives the sins of his child.
+
+"Let us explain, my daughter," he said. "That fatal night, when the
+Marquis de Suarez was killed, a woman was seen to fly from that part of
+the Palace where the tragedy had just taken place. . . ."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Do you not see that if that woman came forward fearlessly and owned the
+truth, that it was from jealousy or even to defend her honour that His
+Grace killed Don Miguel, do you not see that no judge then will find him
+guilty of a wilful and premeditated crime?"
+
+"Then why does not that woman come forward?" she retorted with the first
+sign of vehemence, noticeable in the quiver of her voice and the sudden
+flash in her pale cheeks, "why does she not speak? she for whose sake
+His Grace of Wessex not only took a man's life but is willing to
+sacrifice his honour?"
+
+"She seems to have disappeared," said His Eminence softly, "perhaps she
+is dead. . . . Some say it was you," he added, leaning slightly forward
+and dropping his voice to a whisper.
+
+"They lie," she replied. "I was not there. 'Tis not for me His Grace of
+Wessex will suffer both death and disgrace in silence."
+
+This time His Eminence did not smile. There had been a sudden flash in
+his eyes at this quick, sharp retort--a sudden flash as suddenly veiled
+again. Then his heavy lids drooped; once more he looked paternal,
+benevolent, only just with a soupcon of sternness in his impassive face,
+the aloofness of an austere man towards the weaknesses of more mundane
+creatures.
+
+Never for a moment did he reveal to the unwary young girl all that he
+had guessed through her last unguarded speech.
+
+Her love for Wessex! that he knew already! Its depth alone was a
+revelation to him. But her jealousy! How her lips had trembled and her
+hand twitched when speaking of another, an unknown woman who had called
+forth in Wessex that spirit of noble self-sacrifice, that immolation of
+his own honour and dignity, which had finally landed him in a criminal
+dock.
+
+A woman's passion and a woman's jealousy! Two precious assets in His
+Eminence's present balance. He pondered over what he had learned, and
+victory loomed more certain than before. He loved this present
+situation, the acute tension of this palpitating moment, when he seemed
+to hold this beautiful woman's soul, bare and fettered, writhing with
+agony and self-torture.
+
+To dissect a human heart! to watch its every quiver, to note the effect
+of every searing iron applied with a skilful hand! then to achieve
+success in the end through subtle arts and devices seemingly so full of
+benevolence, yet instinct with the most refined, most far-reaching
+cruelty! This was the form of enjoyment which more than any other
+appealed to the jaded mind of this blase diplomatist. The feline nature
+within him loved this game with the trembling mouse.
+
+But outwardly he sighed, a deep sigh of disappointment.
+
+"Ah! if they lie!" he said, a gentle tone of melancholy pervading his
+entire attitude, "if indeed it was not you, my daughter, who were with
+Don Miguel that night . . . then naught can save His Grace. . . . He has
+suffered in silence. . . . He will die to-morrow in silence . . . and
+innocent."
+
+He had risen from his chair, and began wandering about the narrow
+room--aimlessly--as if lost in thought. Ursula was staring straight
+before her. The first revelation of her present danger had suddenly
+come to her. As in a flash she had suddenly realized that this man had
+sent for her in order to use her for his own ends. She felt that she was
+literally in the position of the mouse about to be sacrificed to the
+greedy ambition of this feline creature, who had neither rectitude nor
+compunction where his ambition was at stake.
+
+Yet after that one betrayal of her emotions she had made a vigorous
+effort to regain her self-control. Every instinct of self-preservation
+was on the alert now, and yet she knew already that she was bound to
+succumb. To what she could not guess, but she felt herself the weaker
+vessel of the two. He was calm and cruel, passionless and tortuous,
+whilst she _felt_ with all her heart and soul and with all her senses.
+
+And though he could not now see her face the Cardinal studied her every
+movement. He could see her figure stiffen with the iron determination to
+retain her self-possession, and inwardly he smiled, for he knew that the
+next moment all that rigidity would vanish, the marble statue would
+become living clay, the palsied nerves would quiver with horror, and she
+herself would fall, a weeping, wailing creature, supplicating at his
+feet.
+
+And this by such a simple method!
+
+Just the opening of a door! gently, noiselessly, until the sound from
+the Great Hall entered into this inner room, and voices clearly detached
+themselves from the confusing hubbub.
+
+Then His Eminence whispered, "Hush, my daughter! listen! my Lord High
+Steward is speaking."
+
+At first perhaps she did not hear, certainly she did not understand, for
+her attitude did not relax its uncompromising stiffness.
+
+Lord Chandois was delivering his first speech.
+
+"My lords and gentlemen," he said, "ye are here assembled this day that
+ye may try Robert d'Esclade, Duke of Wessex, for a grievous and heinous
+crime, which he hath wilfully committed."
+
+It was just the opening and shutting of a door--the claw of the cat upon
+the neck of the mouse. At first sound of Wessex' name Ursula had risen
+to her feet, straight and rigid like a machine. She did not look towards
+the door, but fixed her eyes on him--her tormentor--fascinated as a
+bird, to whom a snake has beckoned and bade it to come nigh.
+
+The colour rose to her cheeks, the reality was gradually dawning upon
+her. That man who spoke in the Great Hall beyond was a judge--there were
+other judges there too. When she arrived at Westminster she had seen a
+great concourse of people, heard the names of great legal dignitaries
+whispered round her, and of peers who had been summoned for a great
+occasion.
+
+That occasion was the trial of the Duke of Wessex on a charge of murder.
+
+"No, no, no," she whispered hoarsely, somewhat wildly, as she took a
+step forward; "no, no, no . . . not yet . . . it is not true . . . not
+yet----"
+
+The thin crust of ice which had enveloped her heart was melting in the
+broad garish light of the actual, awful fact--the commencement of
+Wessex' trial.
+
+She tottered and might have fallen but for the table close beside her,
+against which she leant.
+
+Her calm and composure were flying from her bit by bit. She had at last
+begun to understand--to realize. Up to now it had all been so shadowy,
+so remote, almost like a dream. She had not seen Wessex since that last
+happy moment when he had pressed her against his heart . . . since then
+she had only heard rumours . . . wild statements . . . she knew of his
+self-accusation--the terrible crime which had been committed--but her
+heart had been numbed through the very appalling nature of the
+catastrophe following so closely upon her budding happiness . . . it had
+all been intangible all this while . . . whilst now . . .
+
+"The Duke hath made confession," said the Cardinal, and his voice seemed
+to come as if in direct answer to her thoughts. "In an hour at most
+judgment will be pronounced against him, and then sentence of death."
+
+She passed her hand across her moist forehead, trying to collect her
+scattered senses. She looked once or twice at him in helpless, appealing
+misery, but his face now was stern and implacable, he seemed to her to
+be the presentment of a relentless justice about to fall on an innocent
+man. Her throat felt parched, her lips were dry, yet she tried to speak.
+
+"It cannot be . . ." she repeated mechanically, "it cannot be . . . no,
+no, my lord, you are powerful . . . you are great and clever . . . you
+will find a means to save him . . . you will . . . you will . . . you
+sent for me. . . . Oh! was it in order to torture me like this that you
+sent for me?"
+
+"My child. . . ."
+
+"That woman?" she continued wildly, not heeding him, "that woman . . .
+where is she? . . . find her, my lord . . . find her, and let me speak
+to her. . . . Oh! I'll find the right words to melt her heart . . . she
+must speak . . . she must tell the truth . . . she cannot let him die
+. . . no, no . . . not like that. . . ."
+
+Gone was all her pride, all her icy reserve, even jealousy had vanished
+before the awful inevitableness of his dishonour and his death. She
+would have dragged herself at the feet of those judges who were about to
+condemn him, of this man who was taking a cruel delight in torturing
+her; nay! she would have knelt and kissed the hands of that unknown
+rival, for whose sake she had endured the terrible mental tortures of
+the past few days, if only she could wrench from her the truth which
+would set _him_ free from all this disgrace.
+
+"That woman!" she repeated with agonizing passion, "that woman . . .
+where is she? . . ."
+
+"She stands now before me," said the Cardinal sternly, "repentant, I
+hope, ready to speak the truth."
+
+"No! no! it is false!" she protested vehemently, "false I tell you! It
+was not I . . ."
+
+Her voice broke in a pitiable, wistful sob, which would have melted a
+heart less stony than that which beat in the Cardinal's ambitious
+breast.
+
+"Oh! have I not endured enough?" she murmured half to herself, half in
+appealing misery to him. "Jealousy--hate for that woman whom he loves as
+he never hath loved me . . . whom he loves better than his honour . . .
+for whose sake he will stand there anon, branded with infamy. . . ."
+
+Her knees gave way under her, she fell half prostrate on the floor at
+the very feet of her tormentor.
+
+"Find her, my lord," she sobbed passionately, "find her . . . you can
+. . . you can. . . ."
+
+But for sole answer he once more pushed the door ajar.
+
+Another voice came from the body of the hall now, that of Mr. Barham,
+the Queen's Serjeant--
+
+"And having proved Robert d'Esclade, Duke of Wessex, guilty of this most
+heinous murder, I, on behalf of the Crown, will presently ask you, my
+lord, to pass sentence of death upon him."
+
+"No, no, no--not death!" she moaned, "not death. . . . They are mad, my
+lord--are they not mad? . . . He guilty of murder! Oh! will no one come
+forward to prove him innocent?"
+
+"No one can do that but you, my daughter," replied His Eminence sternly,
+as he once more closed the door.
+
+"But you do not understand. In God's name, what would you have me do? I
+loved him, it is true, but . . . it was another woman . . . not I!
+another woman, whose honour is dearer to him than his own . . . for
+whose sake he killed . . . for whose sake he is silent . . . for whose
+sake he will die . . . but that woman was not I . . . not I!"
+
+"Alas!" he replied placidly, "then indeed nothing can save His Grace
+from the block. . . ."
+
+He sighed and returned to his former place beside the table, like a man
+who has done all that duty demanded of him, and now is weary and ready
+to let destiny take its course.
+
+Ursula watched him dully, stupidly; she could not read just then what
+went on behind that mask of suave benevolence. Could she have read the
+Cardinal's innermost thoughts she would have seen that complete
+satisfaction filled his ambitious heart. He knew that he had succeeded,
+it was but a question of time . . . a few minutes, perhaps; but he had a
+good quarter of an hour to spare, in which the tortured soul before him
+would fight its last fight with despair. There was the long arraignment
+to be read out by the Clerk of the Crown, then the names of the triers
+to be called out in their order--all that, before the prisoner was
+actually called to the bar. Oh yes! he had plenty of time, now that he
+was sure of victory.
+
+The girl wandered mechanically towards the door, her trembling hand
+sought the latch, but was too weak to turn it. She glued her ear to the
+lock and perchance heard a word or two, for even the Cardinal caught the
+sound of a loud voice reading the deadly indictment.
+
+"The prisoner hath confessed . . .
+
+"This most heinous crime . . .
+
+"For which sentence of death . . .
+
+"Return his precept and bring forth the prisoner."
+
+Ursula straightened out her girlish figure; with a firm hand now she
+smoothed her veil over her hair, and rearranged the disordered folds of
+her kerchief. She crossed the room with an unfaltering step, and once
+more took a seat on the low stool opposite to His Eminence the Cardinal.
+
+She seemed to have reassumed the same icy calm which she had worn
+earlier in the interview; she was quite pale again, and all traces of
+tears had disappeared from her eyes.
+
+Quite instinctively, certainly against his will, the Cardinal failed to
+return the steady gaze which she now fixed upon him. As she sat there
+close to him, her great lustrous eyes trying to search his very soul, he
+knew that at last she had guessed.
+
+She _knew_ that he was fully aware of the fact that she was not the
+woman for whose sake the Duke of Wessex was suffering condemnation at
+this very moment. All the meshes of the base intrigue which had landed
+the man she loved in a felon's dock escaped her utterly, but this much
+she realized, that the Cardinal had worked for the Duke's undoing, that
+he knew who her rival was, that he was wilfully shielding that woman,
+whilst callously sacrificing her--Ursula Glynde--to the success of some
+further scheme.
+
+She knew all that, yet she did not hesitate. Her love for Wessex had
+filled all her life--first as a child, then as an ignorant girl
+worshipping an ideal. When she saw him, and in him saw the embodiment of
+all her most romantic beliefs, she loved him with all the passionate
+ardour of her newly awakened woman's heart. From the moment that his
+touch had thrilled her, that his voice had set her temples throbbing,
+that her pure lips had met his own, she had given him her whole love,
+given herself to him body and soul for his happiness and her own.
+
+So great was her love that jealousy had not killed it; it had changed
+her joy into sorrow, her happiness into bitterness, but the heart which
+she gave to him she was powerless to take away. He had fooled her, led
+her to believe in his love for her, but his life was as precious to her
+now as it had been that afternoon--which seemed so long ago--when she
+first raised her eyes to his and met his ardent gaze.
+
+She was face to face with the most cruel problem ever set before a human
+heart, for she firmly believed that if through her self-sacrifice she
+saved him from death and dishonour, he would nevertheless inevitably
+turn to the other woman, for whose sake he was suffering now; yet she
+was ready with the sacrifice, because of the selflessness of her love.
+
+How well the Cardinal had managed the tragedy which had parted two noble
+hearts! Each believed the other treacherous and guilty, yet each was
+prepared to lay down life, honour, happiness for the sake of the loved
+one.
+
+"Your Eminence," said Ursula very quietly after a little while, "you
+said just now that I could save His Grace of Wessex from unmerited
+disgrace and death. Tell me now, what must I do?"
+
+"It is simple enough, my daughter," he replied, still avoiding her
+clear, steadfast gaze; "you have but to speak the truth."
+
+"The truth, they say, oft lies hidden in a well, my lord," she rejoined.
+"I pray Your Eminence to guide me to its depths."
+
+"I can but guide your memory, my daughter, to the events of the fateful
+night when Don Miguel was murdered."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"You were there, in the Audience Chamber, were you not?"
+
+"I was there," she repeated mechanically.
+
+"With Don Miguel de Suarez, who, taking advantage of the late hour and
+the loneliness of this part of the Palace . . . insulted you . . . or
+. . ."
+
+"Let us say that he insulted me. . . ."
+
+"His Grace then came upon the scene?"
+
+"Just as Your Eminence describes it."
+
+"And 'twas to defend your honour that the Duke of Wessex killed Don
+Miguel."
+
+"To defend mine honour the Duke of Wessex killed Don Miguel."
+
+"This you will swear to be true?"
+
+"Without hope of absolution."
+
+"And you will make this tardy confession, my daughter, to His Grace's
+judges freely?"
+
+"Whenever it is deemed necessary I will make the confession to His
+Grace's judges freely."
+
+She swayed as if her senses were leaving her. Instinctively the Cardinal
+put out his arm to support her, but with a mighty effort she drew
+herself together, and looked down upon him with all the regal majesty of
+her own sublime self-sacrifice.
+
+But, flushed with victory, His Eminence cared nothing for the contempt
+of the vanquished. It had been a hard-fought battle. His Grace was saved
+from death and Queen Mary Tudor could not help but keep her word. It was
+a triumph indeed!
+
+He touched a hand-bell, a servant appeared. A few whispered instructions
+and the end was accomplished at last.
+
+But, God in Heaven, at what terrible cost!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+WESTMINSTER HALL
+
+
+A surging, seething crowd! heads upon heads in a dense, compact mass--a
+double row of men, women, boys, and girls, held back with difficulty by
+the Serjeant-at-Arms and his men, armed with halberds and tipstaves!
+
+A crowd come to gape and grin, some to sympathize--but only a very few
+of these. All come to see how the proudest gentleman in England would
+bear himself in a felon's dock.
+
+The dull grey light of an early November day came in ghostly streaks
+through the huge window of the Hall, throwing into bold relief the
+scarlet-clad figures of the twenty-four noble lords who were to be the
+Duke's triers, the gorgeous robes of the judges, and the dull black
+gowns of the attorneys and the minor dignitaries.
+
+Quick, excited whispers passed from mouth to mouth as now and then a
+familiar face detached itself from the crowd of all these awesome
+personages and was recognized by the people.
+
+"That's my lord Huntingdon," said an elderly merchant, pointing to a
+grey-bearded lord who had just taken his seat. "I mind him well when
+first he bought a pair of spurs in my father's shop."
+
+"Aye! and there's Lord Northampton," commented another, "and mightily
+thankful he should be not to be standing at the bar himself for high
+treason."
+
+"That's Mr. Gilbert Gerard, the Attorney-General," quoth one who knew.
+
+"Sh! sh! sh!" came in excited whispers all around, "here comes the Lord
+High Steward himself and all the judges."
+
+The procession awed the populace, for every new-comer--gorgeously
+apparelled though he was--wore a grave face and a saddened mien. The
+crowd, who had come for a day's pageant, a frolic not unlike the happy
+doings at East Molesey Fair, felt suddenly silenced and oppressed. Some
+of the women shivered beneath their thin kerchiefs; the devout ones made
+a quick sign of the cross, as if prayers were about to begin.
+
+It was all so solemn and so grand, in this dim winter's light, wherein
+shadows seemed to hover all around, hiding the remote corners of the
+Hall and dwelling mysteriously on that tall scaffold, whereon one by one
+these reverend personages took their allotted seats.
+
+The Queen's Serjeant carried the white rod, and escorted my Lord High
+Steward to the great chair, covered with a gorgeous cloth, which
+dominated the entire hall. To the right and left of him sat the
+twenty-four peers with their ermine-decked cloaks over their shoulders.
+
+Below them sat the Lord Chief Justice of England, the Lord Chief Justice
+of Common Pleas, and the Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer, and also the
+rest of the minor judges. The Clerk of the Crown, in black gown and
+yellow hose, had been busy some time conversing with his secondary. Next
+to the judges sat several gentlemen of the Queen's household, their
+silken doublets of rich though sombre hues adding a crisp note of
+contrasting colour to the harmonies in scarlet and dull oak, which
+filled in the background of the picture.
+
+Sir Walter Mildmay, Chancellor of the Exchequer, sat close by with six
+of the Queen's Privy Councillors, also on their left the Master of
+Requests and other persons of note. Immediately facing the bar was the
+Queen's Serjeant, the Attorney-General, the Solicitor-General, and the
+Attorney-General of the Court of Wards. The Recorder of London had been
+given a special seat, also Mr. Thomas Norton, the Queen's printer, who
+wrote out the historical account of the trial, which has been preserved
+amongst the State papers.
+
+Then my Lord High Steward stood up bareheaded, holding the white rod in
+his hand, and the Serjeant-at-Arms stepped forward into the immediate
+centre of the Hall facing the crowd, and read out the proclamation as
+follows:--
+
+"My Lord's Grace, the Queen's Majesty's Commissioner, High Steward of
+England, commandeth every man to keep silence on pain of imprisonment
+and to hear the Queen's Commission read."
+
+This was followed by the reading of the Queen's Commission by the Clerk
+of the Crown, after which--still standing--he read the indictment in a
+loud voice, so that all might hear.
+
+"Whereas Robert d'Esclade, fifth Duke of Wessex, did on the night of the
+fourteenth of October of this year of our Lord one thousand five hundred
+and fifty-three, unlawfully kill Don Miguel, Marquis de Suarez, grandee
+of Spain . . ."
+
+The voice of the Clerk went droning on, the people amazed, horrified,
+tried not to lose one single word of this strange document which so
+loudly proclaimed the fact that a dastardly crime, unparalleled in its
+cowardice and ferocity, had been committed by one who until now had
+stood above all Englishmen as a model of honour, loyalty, and truth.
+
+With every fresh charge, skilfully woven together and intertwined with
+sundry depositions obtained from my lord Cardinal and his retinue, the
+crowd of spectators realized more and more that they were face to face
+with a weird and mysterious tragedy, not a pageant, but an appalling
+drama, the prologue of which was being enacted before them now.
+
+It seemed, as the Clerk pursued his reading, that he was slowly
+unfolding mesh by mesh a hideous web, in the midst of which the presence
+of a death-dealing and loathsome spider could as yet only be dimly
+guessed.
+
+A close, clinging web from which no man, be he the premier peer of
+England or the humblest commoner, could ever hope to escape.
+
+The web of a rough and misguided justice, of a law of the talion,
+retributive and blind, distributing with an impartial hand condemnations
+and punishments to guilty and innocent alike, to the martyr and to the
+felon, to the coward and the deceived.
+
+This was not a decadent, puny century, peopled with neurotics and
+feeble-minded weaklings, it was a century of men!--men who were giants
+alike in their virtues and their passions, their vices and their
+atrocities, narrow in their views, but staunch in their beliefs, savage
+in their creeds and prejudices--but MEN for all that.
+
+"The more heinous the offence the less chance shall the prisoner have of
+justifying his conduct." That was the dictate of the law.
+
+"For truly," said Sir Robert Catline, Lord Chief Justice of England, in
+the course of the trial of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton for high treason,
+"justice must not be confused by sundry arguments in the prisoner's
+cause, which might lead to his acquittal and the non-punishment of so
+grave a fault."
+
+Witnesses were seldom, if ever, examined in the presence of the accused.
+Depositions were extorted--often by torture, always by threats--from
+persons who happened to be friends or associates of the prisoner.
+
+An acquittal?--perish the thought! Let the citizen look to himself ere
+he fell in the clutches of his country's justice; once there he had
+little or no chance of proving his innocence.
+
+Lest the guilty escape!
+
+Always that awful possibility! Rough justice demanded punishment--always
+punishment--lest the guilty escape!
+
+And the people as they listened knew that they had come to see a man's
+last day upon earth.
+
+Proud, rich, fastidious Wessex! this is the end of all things! Pomp and
+ceremony, gorgeous robes and costly apparels! these to speed thee on thy
+way; but as inevitably as the dull winter's night must follow this grey
+November morning, so will pomp and circumstance fade away into the past
+and leave thee with but one red-clad figure by thy side--that of the
+headsman with the axe.
+
+Justice to-day could make short work of her duties.
+
+Robert d'Esclade, fifth Duke of Wessex, had confessed to his crime, why
+should Justice trouble herself to prove that which was already admitted?
+She had merely to think out the form and severity of the punishment for
+this man of high degree, who had sunk and stooped so low.
+
+For form's sake a few depositions had been taken, for this was an
+unusual event--a specially atrocious crime! the murder of a foreign
+envoy at the Court of the Queen of England, and at the hand of the
+premier peer of the realm!
+
+The Cardinal de Moreno, envoy in chief of His Majesty the King of Spain,
+had given the matter a political significance. In the name of his royal
+master he had demanded judgment on that most monstrous felony, and the
+exercise of the full rigour of the law. The Duke of Wessex had been a
+rival suitor for the hand of the Queen of England, and he
+had--presumably--wilfully removed a successful diplomatist who
+threatened to thwart his projects.
+
+And thus Wessex was arraigned for treason as well as for murder, and the
+indictment set forth the depositions of my lord Cardinal and those of
+his servant Pasquale, all of which His Grace had declined to peruse. He
+knew that these statements were lies, guessed well enough how his
+enemies would heap proof upon proof to bolster up his own brief
+confession.
+
+His Eminence had made a sworn statement that he heard angry voices
+'twixt Don Miguel and His Grace some little time before the Marquis was
+found dead. Well, that was true enough! There _had_ been a deadly
+quarrel, and though this did not aggravate the case, it helped to
+establish the facts, if public opinion was like to sway the judges or if
+disbelief in Wessex' guilt was too firmly rooted in the minds of his
+peers.
+
+The indictment was a masterpiece, well could the Solicitor-General pride
+himself on the perfection of the document.
+
+A dull, oppressive silence had fallen upon this vast concourse of
+people. Interest, which was at fever-pitch, had forcibly to be kept in
+check, but now, as the Clerk's final words echoed feebly through the
+vast hall, a great sigh of eager excitement rose from the entire
+multitude.
+
+Everything so far had been but preliminary, the somewhat dull, lengthy
+prologue of the coming palpitating drama. But at last the curtain was
+about to rise on the first act, and the chief actor was ready to step
+upon the stage.
+
+Already from afar loud murmurs and excited cries proclaimed the approach
+of the prisoner.
+
+"He hath arrived from the Tower," whispered the 'prentices to one
+another.
+
+The distant murmurs grew in volume, then came nearer and nearer. All
+necks were craned to see the Duke arrive, and even the repeated calls of
+the Serjeant-at-Arms demanding silence were now left unheeded.
+
+Whispers passed from lip to ear. Comments and conjectures flew through
+the crowd. Was not this the most interesting moment of this interesting
+day?
+
+"How would he carry himself?"
+
+"How would he look?"
+
+"How doth a nobleman look when he becomes a felon?"
+
+"Silence! Here they come!"
+
+The Serjeant-at-Arms once more stood up before the people and loudly
+read a proclamation, calling upon the Lieutenant of the Tower of London
+to return his precept and bring forth his prisoner.
+
+This was responded to by a call of "Present!" from outside, followed by
+a loud tumult. The next moment the great doors of the Hall were thrown
+open, six armed men entered and walked straight up the centre aisle
+towards the bar.
+
+Behind them appeared the Lieutenant of the Tower of London, with Lord
+Rich, and between them was Robert d'Esclade, fifth Duke of Wessex, the
+prisoner.
+
+Dressed all in black, he looked distinctly older than the crowd had
+remembrance of him. A sigh of excited anticipation went all along the
+line, a regular bousculade ensued; the people behind trying to catch a
+nearer glimpse of the Duke and pushing those who were in front. The
+'prentices, who were squatting in the foremost rank on the ground, were
+violently jerked forward, some fell on their faces right up against the
+Lieutenant and my lord Rich, seeing which and the general excited
+confusion the Duke was observed to smile.
+
+A woman in the crowd murmured--
+
+"The Lord bless his handsome face!"
+
+"Heaven ward Your Grace!" added another.
+
+The women's pity--and that only momentarily. And the awful publicity of
+it all! Among the men wagers were offered and taken in his hearing as he
+passed, whether sentence of death would be passed on him or not.
+
+"Will they hang him, think you?"
+
+"No, no, 'tis always the axe for noble lords; but they'll have him drawn
+and quartered for sure."
+
+"God help Your Grace!" sighed the women.
+
+Indeed, if pride was a deadly sin, how deadly was its punishment now.
+
+The crowd was not hostile, only indifferent, curious, eager to see; and
+every remark made by these stolid gapers must have cut the prisoner like
+a blow.
+
+They watched him cross the entire length of the hall, commenting on his
+appearance, his clothes, his past life, a coarse jest even came to his
+ears now and again, a laugh of derision or an exclamation of satisfied
+envy.
+
+Fallen Wessex indeed!
+
+He tried with all his might not to show what he felt, and evidently he
+succeeded over well, for Mr. Thomas Norton, in his comments on the
+trial, states placidly:--
+
+"The prisoner seemeth not to understand the gravity of his position and
+careth naught for the heinousness of his crime. Truly this indifference
+marketh a godless soul or else the supreme conceit of wealth and high
+rank, he having many friends among his peers and being confident of an
+acquittal."
+
+Lord Rich alone, who walked by the side of the Duke, and stood close to
+him throughout the awful ordeal, has noted in his interesting memoirs
+how deeply the accused was moved when he realized that he would have to
+stand at the bar on a raised dais, in full view of all the crowd.
+
+"Meseemed that his hand trembled when first he rested it on the bar,"
+adds his lordship in his chronicles. "He being passing tall he could be
+seen by all and sundry, which was trying to his pride. But anon His
+Grace caught my eye, and I doubt not but that he read therein all the
+sympathy which I felt for him, for he then threw back his head and
+scanned the crowd right fearlessly, and more like a king ready to read a
+proclamation than a felon awaiting his trial. Then, as he looked all
+around him, his eyes lighted on my lord the Cardinal de Moreno and on a
+veiled female figure who sat close to the Spanish envoy. He then became
+deathly pale, and I, fearing that he might swoon, caught him by the arm.
+But he pressed my hand and thanked me, saying only that the heat of the
+room was oppressive."
+
+It is evident that my lord Rich was a hot partisan of the accused. He
+and the Lieutenant of the Tower stood close beside the Duke throughout
+the trial, the Tower guard forming a semicircle round the bar, and the
+Chamberlain of the Tower holding the axe with its edge from the prisoner
+and towards Lord Rich.
+
+Mr. Thomas Norton tells us that at this point of the proceedings the
+excitement was intense. Lord Chandois himself seemed unable to keep up
+the rigid dignity of his office. The peers who were the triers were
+eagerly whispering to one another. The Clerk seemed unable to clear his
+throat before calling on the accused.
+
+The crowd too felt this acute tension. The people had already noticed
+the veiled female figure, clad in sombre kirtle and black paniers, who
+had entered the Hall a little while ago, accompanied by His Eminence the
+Cardinal, and had since then sat, dull and rigid, beside him, seemingly
+taking no notice of the proceedings. A hurried conversation carried on
+in whispers between His Eminence and my lord High Steward had been noted
+by everybody--yet no one dared to ask a question.
+
+It seemed as if an invisible presence had suddenly made itself felt, a
+spirit from the land of shadows, that awesome precursor of death which
+is called "Retribution," and that from his ghostly lips there had
+fallen--unheard yet felt by every heart--the mighty dictate of an
+almighty will: "Thou shalt do no murder!"
+
+Had the spirit really passed? Who can tell? But the soul of every man
+and woman there was left quivering. There was not a hand that now did
+not slightly tremble, not one lid that failed to move, for the supreme
+moment had come for the accomplishment of an irreparable wrong.
+
+The spectators had before them the picture of that solemn Court, the
+Lord High Steward with chain and sword of gold, the judges in their red
+robes, the peers with their ermine, and here and there quaint patches
+of unexpected colour as the wintry sun struck full through the coloured
+facets of the huge window beyond and alighted on a black gown or the
+leather jerkins of the guard.
+
+They saw the halberds of the men-at-arms faintly gleaming in the wan,
+grey light, the Cardinal's purple robes, a brilliant note amidst the
+dull mass of browns and blacks; the blue doublet of Sir Henry
+Beddingfield, a jarring bit of discord between the sable-hued garb of
+the other gentlemen there.
+
+And there, amongst them all, the tall, erect figure, the one quiet,
+impassive face in this surging sea of excitement--the prisoner at the
+bar!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+THE TRIAL
+
+
+The excitement, great as it was, had perforce to be kept in check.
+
+The Clerk of the Crown had collected his papers: he now stood up and
+called upon the accused:
+
+"Robert, Duke of Wessex and of Dorchester, Earl of Launceston, Wexford
+and Bridthorpe, Baron of Greystone, Ullesthorpe and Edbrooke, Premier
+Peer of England, hold up thy right hand."
+
+The prisoner having done so, Mr. Barham, the Queen's Sergeant, opened
+the contents of the indictment.
+
+"Whereas it is said that on the fourteenth day of October thou didst
+unlawfully kill Don Miguel, Marquis de Suarez, grandee of Spain and
+envoy extraordinary of His Most Catholic Majesty the King of Spain, thou
+art therefore to make answer to this charge of murder. I therefore
+charge thee once again: art thou guilty of this crime, whereof thou art
+indicted, yea or nay?"
+
+"I am guilty," replied Wessex firmly, "and I have confessed."
+
+"By whom wilt thou be tried?"
+
+"By God and by my peers."
+
+"Before we proceed," continued the Sergeant, "what sayest thou, Robert,
+Duke of Wessex, is that which thou hast confessed true?"
+
+"It is true."
+
+"And didst thou confess it willingly and freely of thyself, or was there
+any extortion or unfair means to draw it from thee?"
+
+"Surely I made that confession freely," replied the prisoner, "without
+any constraint, and that is all true."
+
+"And hast thou read the depositions of those who were witness of thy
+crime, and who have added their testimony to that which thine accusers,
+the Queen's Commissioners, already know?"
+
+"I have not read those depositions, as there was no one present when Don
+Miguel died save I--his murderer--and God!"
+
+As Wessex made this last bold declaration, the Queen's Serjeant turned
+towards His Eminence as if expecting guidance from that direction, but
+as nothing came he continued--
+
+"I would have thee weigh well what thou sayest. Thine answers and
+confessions, if spoken truthfully, will do much to mitigate the severity
+of the punishment which thy crime hath called forth."
+
+"I will make mine own confession," retorted Wessex, with a sudden quick
+return to his own haughty manner. "I pray you teach me not how to answer
+or confess. But because I was not cognizant whether my peers did know it
+all or not, I have made a short declaration of my doings with Don
+Miguel. That is the truth, my lords," he added, addressing his triers
+and judges on the bench, "everything else which hath been added contrary
+to mine own confession is a lie and a perjury, as God here is my
+witness."
+
+"Thy confession is but a brief record of the fact, as the Clerk of the
+Crown will presently read. There is neither circumstance nor detail."
+
+"And is it for circumstance or detail that I am being tried?" rejoined
+Wessex, "or for the murder of Don Miguel de Suarez, to which I hereby
+plead guilty?"
+
+The Queen's Serjeant looked to Sir Robert Catline for guidance. The Lord
+Chief Justice, however, was of opinion that the prisoner's confession
+must be read first, before any further argument about it could be
+allowed.
+
+The Clerk of the Crown then rose and began to read:--
+
+      "The voluntary confession of Robert Duke of Wessex,
+      now a prisoner in the Tower, and accused of murder,
+      treason, and felony: made at the Tower of London on
+      the fifteenth day of October, 1553. I hereby
+      acknowledge and confess that on the fourteenth day of
+      October I did unlawfully kill Don Miguel, Marquis de
+      Suarez, by stabbing him in the back with my dagger.
+      For this murder I plead neither excuse nor
+      justification, and submit myself to a trial by my
+      peers and to the justice of this realm. So help me
+      God."
+
+The bench, the entire hall, was crowded with the Duke's friends; with
+the exception of a very small faction, who for reasons they deemed good
+and adequate desired the Spanish alliance, and the death of the man at
+the bar, not a single man or woman present believed that that confession
+was an expose of the truth. The Serjeant himself, the Clerk of the
+Crown, the Attorney and Solicitor-General who represented the
+prosecution, knew that some mystery lurked behind that monstrous
+self-accusation. But it was so straightforward, so categorical, that
+unless some extraordinary event occurred, unless Wessex himself recanted
+that confession, nothing could save him from its dire consequences.
+
+Oh! if Wessex would but recant! No one would have disbelieved him
+then--not that fickle, motley crowd surely, who with its own
+characteristic inconsequence had suddenly taken the accused to its
+heart.
+
+"'Tis not true, Wessex!" shouted a manly voice from the body of the
+hall.
+
+"Deny it! deny it!" came in a regular hubbub from the compact mass of
+throats in the rear.
+
+The Duke smiled, but did not move. Lord Rich, in his memoirs, here
+points out that "His Grace seemed all unconscious of his surroundings
+and like unto a wanderer in the land of dreams."
+
+But the confession had aroused the opposition of the crowd, it was truly
+past honest men's belief. Every one murmured, and some chroniclers aver
+that there was a regular tumult, more than encouraged by the Duke's
+friends, and not checked even by the Lord High Steward himself.
+
+In the turn of a hand public opinion had veered round. Forgetting that a
+while ago they were ready to hoot and mock the prisoner, the men now
+were equally prepared to make a rush for the bar and drag him away from
+that ignominious place, which they suddenly understood that he never
+should have occupied.
+
+The Serjeant-at-Arms had much ado to make himself heard. The guard had
+literally to make an onslaught on the crowd. It was fully five or ten
+minutes before the noise subsided; then only did murmurs die down like
+the roar of the sea when the surf recedes from the shore.
+
+It was a brief lull, and Mr. Barham, the Queen's Serjeant, having once
+more enjoined silence on behalf of Her Majesty's Commissioner, and on
+pain of imprisonment, was at last able to continue his duties.
+
+"It appeareth before you, my lords," he resumed in a loud, clear voice,
+"that this man hath been indicted and arraigned of a most heinous crime,
+and hath confessed it before you, which is of record. Wherefore there
+resteth no more to be done but for the Court to give judgment
+accordingly, which here I require in the behalf of the Queen's
+Majesty."
+
+The Lord High Steward rose and a gentleman usher took the white wand
+from him. He stood bareheaded, and every one in the Hall could see him.
+
+"Robert, Duke of Wessex," he said, and his voice trembled as he spoke,
+"Duke of Dorchester, Earl of Launceston, Wexford, and Bridthorpe, Baron
+of Greystone, Ullesthorpe, and Edbrooke, premier peer of England, what
+have you to say why I may not proceed to judgment?"
+
+The last words almost sounded like an appeal, of friend to friend,
+comrade to comrade. Lord Chandois' kindly eyes were fixed in deep sorrow
+on the man whom he had loved and honoured sufficiently to wish to see
+him on the throne of England.
+
+There was an awed hush in the vast hall, and then a voice, clear and
+distinct--a woman's voice--broke the momentous silence.
+
+"The Duke of Wessex is innocent of the charge brought against him, as I
+hereby bear witness on his behalf."
+
+Even as the last bell-like tones echoed through the great chamber a
+young girl stepped forward, sable-clad and fragile-looking, but
+unabashed by the hundreds of eyes fixed eagerly upon her.
+
+In the centre of the room she paused, and, throwing back the dark veil
+which enveloped her face, she looked straight up at my Lord High
+Steward.
+
+"Who speaks?" he asked in astonishment.
+
+"I, Ursula Glynde," she replied firmly, "daughter of the Earl of Truro."
+
+At sound of her voice Wessex had started. His face became deathly pale
+and his hand gripped the massive bar of wood before him, until every
+muscle and sinew in his arm creaked with the intensity of the effort. It
+was only after she had spoken her own name that he seemed to pull
+himself together, for he said--
+
+"I pray your lordships not to listen. I desire no witnesses on my
+behalf."
+
+His temples had begun to throb, a wild horror seized him at thought of
+what she might do. And her appearance, too, had set his heart beating in
+a veritable turmoil of emotions. For she stood now before him, before
+them all, as the vision of purity and innocence which he had first
+learnt to worship: that other self of hers, that mysterious, half-crazed
+being who had fooled and mocked him and then committed the awful crime
+for which he stood self-convicted, that had vanished, leaving only this
+delicate, ethereal being, the one whom he had clasped in his arms, whose
+blue eyes had gazed lovingly into his, whose lips had met his in that
+one mad, passionate embrace.
+
+When he interposed thus coldly, impassively, she shuddered slightly but
+she did not turn towards him, and he could only see the dainty outline
+of her fine profile, cut clear against a dark background of moving
+figures beyond. From the table at which she herself had been sitting and
+waiting all this while, and which was now in full view of the
+spectators, two advocates rose and joined the bench of judges. One of
+them, after a brief consultation with the Clerk of the Crown, turned
+respectfully towards the Lord High Steward.
+
+"I humbly beseech your lordship," he said firmly, "and you, my lords, to
+hear the evidence of the Lady Ursula Glynde. There has been no time to
+obtain a written deposition from her, for God at the eleventh hour hath
+thought fit to move her to speak that which she knows, so that a
+dreadful error may not be committed."
+
+"This is a great breach of customary procedure," said Mr. Thomas
+Bromley, the Solicitor-General, with a dubious shake of the head.
+
+"Not so great as you would have us think, sir," commented Sir Robert
+Catline, "for e'en in the trial of the late-lamented Queen Catherine of
+blessed memory, my lord of Uppingham, whose depositions could not be
+taken previously, was nevertheless allowed to bear witness on behalf of
+the accused."
+
+But the opinion of the most learned lawyer in England would not now have
+been listened to, if it had been adverse to the present situation. Lords
+and judges, noblemen and spectators clamoured with every means at their
+command, short of absolute contempt of Court, that this new witness
+should be heard.
+
+"How say you, my lords?" said the Lord High Steward eagerly, "bearing in
+mind the opinion of our learned colleague, ought we to hear this lady or
+no?"
+
+"Aye! aye!" came from every voice on the bench.
+
+"By Our Lady! I protest!" said Wessex loudly.
+
+"We will hear this lady," pronounced the Lord High Steward. "Let her
+step forward and be made to swear the truth of her assertions."
+
+Ursula came forward a step or two. Mr. Thomas Wilbraham,
+Attorney-General of the Court of Wards, who was sitting close by, held
+out a small wooden crucifix towards her. She took it and kissed it
+reverently.
+
+"You are the Lady Ursula Glynde," queried Lord Chandois, "maid-of-honour
+to the Queen's Majesty?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Then do I charge you to speak the truth, the whole truth, and naught
+but the truth, so help you God."
+
+"My lords," protested Wessex hotly, for his brain was in a whirl. He
+could not allow her to speak and accuse herself of her crime--she, the
+angel side of her, taking upon herself the evil committed by that
+mysterious second self over which she had no control. It was too
+horrible! And all these people gaping at her made his blood tingle with
+shame. What he had readily borne himself, the disgrace, the staring
+crowd, the pity and inquisitiveness of the multitude, that he felt he
+could not endure for her.
+
+Already, as he saw her now, his heart had forgiven her everything;
+gladly, joyously would he die now, since he had seen her once more as
+she really was, pure and undefiled by contact with the ignoble wretch
+whom, in a moment of madness, she had sent to his death.
+
+He protested with all his might. But it was his own past life, his
+friends, his popularity, which now literally conspired against him, and
+caused his judges to turn a deaf ear to his entreaties.
+
+"My lord of Wessex," said the High Steward sternly, "in the name of
+justice and for the dignity of this court, I charge you to be silent."
+
+Then he once more addressed the Lady Ursula.
+
+"Say on, lady. This court will hear you."
+
+She waited a few moments, whilst every spectator there seemed to hear
+his own heart beat with the intensity of his excitement. Then she began
+speaking in a firm and even voice, somewhat low at first, but gaining in
+strength and volume as she proceeded.
+
+"I would have you know, my lords," she said, "that at midnight on the
+fourteenth day of October, being in the Audience Chamber at Hampton
+Court Palace, in the company of Don Miguel de Suarez . . ."
+
+She paused suddenly and seemed to sway. Mr. Thomas Wilbraham ran to her,
+offering her a chair, which she declined with a quick wave of the hand.
+
+"My lords," said Wessex, quietly and earnestly, during the brief lull
+caused by this interruption, "I entreat you in the name of justice, do
+not hear this lady; she is excited and overwrought and knows not the
+purport of what she is saying. . . . You see for yourselves she is
+scarce conscious of her actions. . . . I have made full confession
+. . . there rests nothing to be done. . . ."
+
+"Prisoner at the bar," said the Lord High Steward, "I charge you to be
+silent. Lady Ursula, continue."
+
+And Wessex perforce had to hold his peace, whilst Ursula resumed her
+tale more calmly.
+
+"Being in company of Don Miguel, who spoke words of love to me . . . and
+anon did hold me in his arms . . . when I tried to escape . . . but
+. . . but . . . he would not let me go . . . he . . . he . . . your
+lordships, have patience with me, I pray you . . ." she added in tones
+of intense pathos as the monstrous lie she was so sublimely forcing
+herself to utter seemed suddenly to be choking her. Then she continued
+speaking quickly, lest perhaps she might waver before the end.
+
+"His Grace of Wessex did come upon us, and seeing me held with violence,
+I, who was his betrothed, to save mine honour, the Duke did strike Don
+Miguel down."
+
+There was dead silence as the young girl had finished speaking. Wessex
+was staring at her, and Mr. Thomas Norton assures us that he burst out
+laughing, a laugh which the Queen's printer stigmatizes as "heartless
+and unworthy a high-born gentleman! for truly," he continues, "the Lady
+Ursula Glynde was moved by the spirit of God in thus making a tardy
+confession, and His Grace, methinks, should have shown a proper spirit
+of reverence before this manifestation of God."
+
+But if Wessex laughed at this supreme and palpitating moment, surely his
+laugh must have come from the very bitterness of his soul. As far as he
+knew Ursula had told nothing but a strangely concocted lie. To him, who
+had--as he thought--seen her with the blood of Don Miguel still warm
+upon her hands, this extraordinary tale of threatened honour and timely
+interference was but a tangled tissue of wanton falsehoods--another in
+the long series which she had told to him.
+
+And purposeless too!
+
+He had no idea of any sacrifice on her part, and merely looked upon her
+present action as a weak attempt to save him from the gallows and no
+more.
+
+She just liked him well enough apparently not to wish to see him hang,
+but that was all. And this suddenly struck him as ridiculous, paltry,
+and childish, a silly bravado which caused him to laugh. Perhaps she
+desired to save him publicly at slight cost to herself, in order that
+she might yet occupy one day the position which she had so avowedly
+coveted since her childhood--that of Duchess of Wessex!
+
+It was indeed more than ridiculous.
+
+The stain of murder, which was really on her hands, she was full willing
+that it should rest on him, only slightly palliated by the lie which she
+had told.
+
+Strange, strange perversion of a girlish soul!
+
+With dulled ears and brain in a turmoil Wessex only partly heard the
+questions and cross-questions which his judges now put to her. She never
+wavered from her original story, but repeated it again and again,
+circumstantially and without hesitation. Never once did she look towards
+the bar.
+
+"Lady Ursula Glynde," said Lord Chandois finally and with solemn
+earnestness, "do you swear upon your honour and conscience that you have
+spoken the truth?"
+
+And she replied equally solemnly--
+
+"I swear it upon mine honour and conscience."
+
+"'Tis false from beginning to end," protested Wessex loudly.
+
+Ursula made a low obeisance before my Lord High Steward. The crucifix
+was once more held up to her and she kissed it reverently. With that
+pious kiss she reached at that moment the highest pinnacle of her
+sacrifice--she gave up to the man she loved the very spotlessness of her
+soul. For his sake she had lied and spoken a false oath--she had sinned
+in order that he might be saved.
+
+And even now she also reached the greatest depth of her own misery, for,
+as she told her tale before his judges and before _him_, she half
+expected that he would exonerate her from the odious accusations which
+she was bringing against herself.
+
+The story which she had told had been in accordance with the Cardinal's
+suggestions, but she herself was quite convinced that Don Miguel had
+fallen by a woman's hand. Wessex would never have hit another man in the
+back--that was woman's work, and she who had done it was so dear to him,
+that he was sacrificing life and honour in order to shield her.
+
+Aye! more than that! for was he not acting a coward's part by allowing
+Ursula Glynde to sacrifice her fair name for the sake of a wanton?
+
+And thus these two people who loved one another more than life, honour,
+and happiness, were face to face now with that terrible misunderstanding
+between them:--still further apart from each other than they had ever
+been, both suffering acutely in heart and mind for the supposed
+cowardice and wantonness of the other, and the while my Lord High
+Steward and the other noble lords were concluding the ceremonies of that
+strange, eventful trial.
+
+"My lords," said Lord Chandois, once more rising from his seat, "you
+have heard the evidence of this lady, and Robert Duke of Wessex having
+put himself upon the trial of God and you his peers, I charge you to
+consider if it appeareth that he is guilty of this murder or whether he
+had justification, and thereupon say your minds upon your honour and
+consciences."
+
+We have Mr. Thomas Norton's authority for stating that my lords, the
+triers, never left their seats, nor did they deliberate. Hardly were the
+words out of my Lord High Steward's lips than with one accord
+four-and-twenty voices were raised saying--
+
+"Not guilty!"
+
+"Then," adds Mr. Norton, "there was a cheer raised from the people
+inside the Hall which was quite deafening to the ears. Sundry tossed
+their caps into the air, and many of the women began to cry. My Lord
+High Steward could not make himself heard for a long while, at which he
+became very wrathful, and, calling to the Serjeant-at-Arms, he bade him
+clear the Court of all these noise-makers."
+
+There seems to have been considerable difficulty in doing this, for Mr.
+Thomas Norton continuously refers to "riotous conduct," and even to
+"contempt of the Queen's Commissioner." Cheers of "God save Wessex!"
+alternated with the loyal cry of "God save the Queen." The men-at-arms
+had to use their halberds, and did so very effectually, one or two of
+the more excited "noise-makers" getting wounded about the face and
+hands. Finally the suggestion came from Mr. Barham, the Queen's
+Serjeant, that His Grace of Wessex should be concealed from the view of
+the populace, and, acting upon this advice, the Lieutenant of the Tower
+ordered his guard to close around the bar, whilst a low seat was
+provided for His Grace. The object of this mad enthusiasm being thus
+placed out of sight, the people became gradually more calm, and the
+noise subsided sufficiently for the Queen's Serjeant to give forth his
+final dictum.
+
+"My Lord's Grace, the Queen's Commissioner, High Steward of England,
+chargeth all persons to depart in God's peace and the Queen's, and hath
+dissolved this Commission!"
+
+"God save the Queen!" was shouted lustily, and then the great door was
+opened and the people began quietly to file out.
+
+The pale November sun had struggled out of its misty coverings, and
+touched the pinnacles and towers of the old Abbey with delicate gleams
+of golden grey. Slowly the crowd moved on, some of the more venturesome
+or more enthusiastic townsfolk, the 'prentices, and younger men,
+lingered round the precincts to see the great personages come out and to
+give a final cheer for His Grace of Wessex.
+
+The Hall itself seemed lonely now that the people had gone. The Lord
+High Steward once more called on the prisoner, who had already risen as
+soon as his noisy partisans had departed.
+
+As he had been impassive throughout the terrible ordeal of this trial
+for his life, so he remained now that on every face before him he read
+the inevitable acquittal. He had watched Ursula Glynde's graceful figure
+as, accompanied by the Cardinal de Moreno, she had finally made an
+obeisance before the judges, then had retired through the doors of the
+Lord Chancellor's Court.
+
+A great and awful disgust filled his whole heart. It was he now who was
+conscious of the loathsome web, which had enveloped him more completely
+than he had ever anticipated.
+
+He saw his acquittal hovering on the lips of his peers. Lord Chandois'
+kindly face was beaming with delight, Sir Robert Catline and Mr. Gilbert
+Gerard were conversing quite excitedly: his own friends, Sir Henry
+Beddingfield and Lord Mordaunt, Lord Huntingdon and Sir John Williams,
+were openly expressing their intense satisfaction.
+
+But for him, what did it all mean? An acquittal based on a lie, and that
+lie told by a woman to save him!
+
+But a lie for all that, and one which he could not refute, without
+telling the whole truth to his judges and branding _her_ publicly as a
+murderess and worse.
+
+He, who had ever held his own honour, his pride, the cleanness of his
+whole existence as a fetish to be worshipped, now saw himself forced to
+barter all that which he held so sacred and gain his own life in
+exchange. How much more gladly would he have heard his death-sentence
+pronounced now by his friend's kind lips. Death--however
+ignominious--would have purified and exalted honour.
+
+Mechanically he listened to Lord Chandois' speech, and mechanically he
+protested. The web was tightly woven around him, and he was powerless to
+tear it asunder.
+
+"Robert Duke of Wessex and of Dorchester," said the Lord High Steward,
+"Earl of Launceston, Wexford, and Bridthorpe, Baron of Greystone,
+Ullesthorpe and Edbrooke, premier peer of England, the lords, your
+peers, have found you not guilty of this crime of murder."
+
+"My lords," said Wessex in a final appeal, which he himself felt was a
+hopeless one, "I thank you from my heart, but I cannot accept this
+decision; it is based on a falsehood, the hysterical outpourings of a
+misguided heart, and . . ."
+
+But already the Lord High Steward had interrupted him.
+
+"My lord Duke," he said, "the tale this lady hath at last spoken in open
+Court was one guessed at by all your friends; she hath not only followed
+the dictates of her conscience, but hath taken a heavy burden from the
+hearts of your triers, and one which would have saddened many of us,
+even to our graves. Had it been my terrible duty to pass death-sentence
+upon you, which had the lady not spoken I should have been bound to do,
+I myself would have felt akin to a murderer. We cannot but thank heaven
+that Lady Ursula's heart was touched at the eleventh hour, and that you
+were not allowed to sacrifice your honour and your life in so worthless
+a cause."
+
+"But I cannot allow you to believe, nor you, my lords . . ." further
+protested the Duke.
+
+"Nay, my lord, we only believe one thing, and that is that Your Grace
+leaves this Court this day with the respect and admiration of all men in
+the land, with unsullied honour, and with stainless name. All else we
+are content shall remain a mystery betwixt Lady Ursula Glynde and her
+conscience."
+
+"God save the Queen," added the Lord High Steward as he broke the white
+wand.
+
+"And," adds Mr. Thomas Norton, "thus ended the trial of His Grace of
+Wessex and of Dorchester, on a charge of murder, treason, and felony.
+Surrounded by his friends, cheered by the mob, the Duke left Westminster
+Hall a free man, but as I watched his face, meseemed that I saw thereon
+such strange melancholy and a hue like that of death. He smiled to my
+lord Huntingdon and spoke long and earnestly with my lord Rich. He had
+mighty cause to be thankful to God and to his friends for his acquittal,
+yet meseemed almost as if he rebelled against his happy fate, and I
+hereby bear witness that the blood of the Spanish envoy must still have
+clung to His Grace's hands. In just cause or in unjust no man shall take
+another's life wantonly, and I doubt not but His Grace's conscience will
+trouble him unto his death."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+AFTERWARDS
+
+
+Escorted throughout the journey home by His Eminence, Ursula had not
+uttered one word. She sat in the barge, gazing out along the river, her
+veil closely drawn over her head, lest prying eyes noted the expression
+on her face.
+
+She was as one who had seen all that she held most dear dying before her
+eyes. She had made her sacrifice willingly, had offered up her fair
+name, her every feminine instinct of honour and modesty upon the altar
+of her love. She had by that sublime holocaust offered up to God a
+thanksgiving for two brief hours of happiness which she had enjoyed.
+
+How far, far away those transient moments seemed now to be. That
+half-hour in the park of old Hampton Court, with the nightingale singing
+its sweet song as an accompaniment to the great hosanna which filled her
+heart. She closed her eyes, for her heart ached nigh to bursting when
+she remembered that first touch of his hand upon hers, the gay, merry
+words which fell from his lips, the passionate ardour which gleamed in
+his eyes.
+
+Oh God! she had worshipped one of Thy creatures and found him less than
+human after all. The murmur of the river as the boat glided along
+recalled to her those few moments among the rushes, when a golden
+October sun was sinking slowly in the west, and the water-fowl were
+calling to their mates, while she leant back in a boat, lulled by the
+peace of that exquisite hour, rocked to blissful rest by the gentle
+motion of the river, and dreaming of heaven, for he sat opposite to her,
+and every look of his told her that he thought her fair.
+
+Oh God! she had worshipped one of Thy creatures! How great is Thy
+vengeance now!
+
+He was false to love! false to her!
+
+All jealousy had died from her heart. Her pain now was because he was
+false. She had forgotten the other woman, she only remembered him--that
+he did not love her, that he had accepted her sacrifice, and laughed
+bitterly, cruelly, when first she told her sublime lie for his sake.
+
+At the Water Gate of the Palace the barge drew up and Ursula prepared to
+alight. She had spent the short moments of the transit between
+Westminster and Hampton Court in these heart-breaking daydreams. She
+hardly realized where she was and what she was doing. Once only, when
+first the cupolas of the Palace detached themselves from out the mist,
+she had felt such a desperate pain in her heart, that for a moment the
+wild hope came to her that God would be merciful and would allow her to
+die.
+
+But when she alighted she suddenly became conscious that the Cardinal de
+Moreno was standing before her, his delicate white hand outstretched to
+help her to step ashore. She shrank away from him as from a viper who
+had stung her and might sting her again. Not understanding his attitude,
+nor the motives which had led him to suggest to her the lie that had
+saved Wessex, she yet knew by instinct that this purple-clad, benevolent
+person, this kindly and courteous diplomatist was a thing of evil which
+had first polluted and then killed her love.
+
+His Eminence smiled--a kind, indulgent smile--when he saw the quick
+look of horror in the young girl's face, and he said very gently--
+
+"Will you not allow me, my daughter, to accompany you to your
+apartments? The Queen, remember, hath confided you to my charge; I would
+wish to see you safely in Her Grace of Lincoln's care."
+
+"Your Eminence does me too much honour," she said coldly. "I can find my
+way alone through the Water Gallery."
+
+"Yet Her Majesty, meseems, will not allow her maids-of-honour to walk
+unattended in this part of the grounds," he added, with a slight touch
+of benevolent sarcasm.
+
+"My comings and goings have ceased to interest Her Majesty," rejoined
+Ursula quietly, "and I am no longer of sufficient importance to require
+watching or to demand an escort."
+
+"Well, as you will, my daughter. It is not for me to force my presence
+upon you, though, believe me, I would have wished to serve you."
+
+He was about to beckon to his retinue, who had stood respectfully aside
+during this brief colloquy, when with a quick, wholly unexpected
+movement, the young girl placed her hand upon his arm and forced him
+once more to turn and face her.
+
+"Your Eminence would wish to serve me?" she said, speaking rapidly and
+with a strange, peremptory ring in her voice.
+
+"Can you doubt it, my child?" he replied urbanely.
+
+"No," she said firmly, "for there is that between Your Eminence and me
+which, if known to the Queen of England, would for ever ruin your
+position in any court of Europe."
+
+"You would find it difficult . . ." he began, whilst a slight look--oh,
+a mere shade!--of fear seemed to creep into his eyes.
+
+"Nay! I was not thinking of betraying Your Eminence, nor the trap which
+you set for me, into which I was full willing to fall. I merely
+mentioned the existence of this secret for the awakening of your own
+conscience and because I have need of a service from you."
+
+"I will endeavour to fulfil your behests, my child."
+
+"I desire three words with His Grace of Wessex this afternoon."
+
+"My child . . . !" he ejaculated, with still a tone of nervousness
+perceptible in his voice, and a trace of that newly awakened fear
+lurking in the anxious look which he cast upon her.
+
+But she seemed quite self-possessed, and almost commanding as one who
+had the right to demand obedience. The Cardinal did not quite know how
+to read her character at this moment. There was no doubt that if she
+chose to betray the part which he had played in her voluntary
+self-immolation, there would be plenty of people at the English Court
+only too ready to believe her, or at any rate to seem to do so. The
+Queen of England herself would lend a willing ear to any tale which
+would release her from her promise, with a semblance of honour to
+herself. His Grace of Wessex stood fully exonerated now, and in the face
+of so much humiliation the Cardinal would find it impossible to demand a
+fresh trial, whilst Mary Tudor had probably already repented of her
+pledge to marry King Philip of Spain.
+
+On the other hand, was it not dangerous to allow an interview to take
+place between Wessex and Ursula? In a flash the Cardinal reviewed the
+situation, and weighed all the consequences of the two courses thus
+opened before him--acquiescence and negation, and with his usual
+quickness of intellect he decided that acquiescence would be least
+dangerous. All he wanted was the time in which he could obtain the
+Queen's actual signature to her pledge. Once that was done, Mary Tudor
+would never go back on her royal sign-manual. In any case not much harm
+could be done in a brief interview. Both Wessex and Ursula were so far
+from guessing the truth, so ignorant of the tangled meshes of the
+intrigue in which they were still being held, that it would undoubtedly
+require the testimony of a third person at least, to bring daylight into
+the black shadows of the mystery.
+
+Therefore His Eminence, after these few seconds of serious thought,
+resumed his kind, suave manner and, dismissing all fears from his mind,
+placed his services with alacrity at Lady Ursula's disposal.
+
+"But I fear me," he added reflectively, "that you place too much
+reliance upon my humble powers. His Grace of Wessex is not like to
+listen to me, and meseems that you could more easily obtain an interview
+with him through your own influence, which just now should be boundless,
+if the Duke has any gratitude in his heart."
+
+"Your Eminence seems to be the prime mover in this drama of puppets,"
+rejoined Ursula drily, "and the Queen will put every obstacle in my way
+unless Your Eminence interferes."
+
+"Your confidence honours me, my daughter; I will do my humble best
+beside Her Majesty, and you can do the rest. But this, on one
+condition."
+
+"Name it."
+
+"That you will have patience until to-morrow. His Grace arrives at the
+Palace to-night, Her Majesty will no doubt honour him specially; there
+may be festivities to-morrow afternoon. I think I can so contrive it
+that you have ten minutes alone then with His Grace."
+
+She bent her head in acquiescence, and then stepped back so as to
+intimate to him that this interview was at an end.
+
+"Be prudent, my daughter," he added, as he finally turned to go, "and
+remember that a sin is best atoned for by humility and silence."
+
+"At what hour can I rely on Your Eminence's promise to-morrow?" she
+rejoined, calmly ignoring his urbane speech.
+
+"In the early part of the afternoon, if God will grant me power."
+
+"Your Eminence had best pray for that power then," she added finally.
+
+The Cardinal took leave of her with his usual dignified benevolence. It
+did not suit him at present to appear to be taking notice of her thinly
+veiled threats. He did not think that she would actually betray him,
+even if she did talk to His Grace for a few moments, for to betray the
+lie would mean also to acknowledge her love and her jealousy, and proud
+Ursula Glynde would never suffer that humiliation.
+
+The situation was delicate and difficult, more so perhaps than it had
+ever been, but the next few hours should see the Queen of England's
+signature at the bottom of a bond.
+
+Thoughtfully His Eminence began walking along the Water Gallery, whilst
+Ursula quietly watched his purple robes gliding along the flagged
+corridor.
+
+She too had gained her wish--to see and speak to Wessex. What would she
+say? and how would he reply? Vaguely she wondered if she would have the
+strength to show him the contempt which she felt for his cowardice, and
+inwardly prayed for the strength not to let him see how much she loved
+him still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+THE CARDINAL'S PUPPETS
+
+
+His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno knew well how to gauge the moods and
+tempers of the English people of his time. He had rightly guessed that
+the Duke of Wessex, whom but a few hours ago his countrymen were ready
+to condemn to a shameful death, would remain the hero of the hour, until
+the enthusiasm of his friends had once more cooled down to a more normal
+pitch.
+
+Mary Tudor was deeply grateful to the Cardinal, for what she truly
+believed was a wonderful triumph of persuasion over the obstinacy of a
+guilty conscience. If in her innermost heart she bitterly resented the
+fact that Wessex owed his acquittal to outside influences rather than to
+the will of his Queen, she nevertheless was ready enough to acknowledge
+how completely His Eminence had succeeded, and how little ground she had
+for not keeping her share of the momentous compact which she had made
+with him.
+
+"If Your Eminence is instrumental in saving His Grace from the block I
+will marry King Philip of Spain!"
+
+That was her bond, and already the Cardinal had claimed its fulfilment.
+The Queen of England stood definitely pledged to give her hand to Philip
+II, King of Spain.
+
+The Spanish alliance, so much dreaded by the patriotic faction of
+England, was all but an accomplished fact. Bitter disappointment reigned
+in the hearts of all those who had hoped to see an English peer upon
+the English throne. Yet all Wessex' friends were bound to admit that
+from the very moment when the Duke's acquittal suddenly roused all their
+dormant hopes, one look at his face had sufficed to tell them that those
+same hopes had been born but to die again. There stood a man, broken in
+health and spirits, tired of life, without buoyancy or youth, or that
+delightful vigour which had made the name of Wessex sound a note of
+gladness throughout the land.
+
+Even as he stepped down from the bar and his adherents showered good
+wishes upon him, he looked twenty years older than he had done on that
+bright happy day a fortnight ago when, the cynosure of all eyes, the
+most brilliant ornament of that gorgeous court, he seemed to stand
+smiling on the steps of the throne, gently dallying with a crown.
+
+Yet Mary Tudor, wilfully forgetting for the moment her pledge to the
+Spaniards, longing to enjoy these last few hours when she was still
+free, had showered smiles, fetes, honours upon the man she loved, happy
+to feel his lips pressed upon her hand in loyalty and gratitude.
+
+She had never inquired of him how much real truth there was in the story
+which Ursula Glynde had told in open court. Perhaps she did not care to
+know. She was weak enough--woman enough--to rejoice at the thought of
+her rival's complete humiliation. She was content to let the events of
+that fateful night remain completely wrapped in mystery. Vaguely she
+felt that in some sort of way the elucidation of it would not be
+altogether detrimental to Ursula Glynde, at the same time she knew that
+never now could the young girl, who had come between her and the man she
+loved, aspire to become Duchess of Wessex.
+
+The scandal had been too great, and unless some unexpected and
+wonderful thing happened, which would signally clear Ursula's maiden
+fame, she would for ever remain under the ban of this mystery which had
+besmirched her good name.
+
+Ursula had been quite right when she asserted with bitter sarcasm that
+His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno seemed to be the prime mover in the
+game of puppets, which was now proceeding within the precincts of the
+Palace. With the royal signature appended to his bond, he felt that his
+position was now impregnable, and he moved about among the English lords
+and courtiers as a vice-regent would in the absence of a king.
+
+The fact that a messenger from Scotland had arrived in the morning with
+news of the ambassadors to the Queen Regent, without any mention of
+either Lord Pembroke's or Lord Everingham's sudden departure from
+thence, had completely calmed any fears he still might have of the
+latter's too sudden reappearance at Hampton Court. In any case now he
+had still some days before him during which he could consolidate his
+success, by establishing direct intercourse between King Philip and the
+Queen of England. He hoped before many hours had elapsed to obtain from
+Mary Tudor an actual letter, writ in her own hand to her royal
+betrothed.
+
+Thus secure in his invulnerable position, the Cardinal had thought it
+prudent as well as expedient to accede to Ursula's wishes, which seemed
+very like commands, and he had used his diplomatic skill to good purpose
+in persuading Mary Tudor to allow the interview between the young girl
+and His Grace.
+
+At the same time His Eminence was sufficiently wary so to manipulate his
+puppets that the interview should be of the briefest, and in this he was
+like enough to succeed.
+
+It was in order to celebrate the happy return of His Grace to Court
+that the Queen had, at his request, granted a free pardon to all those
+who were to be brought for trial on the same day as the Duke. Two
+o'clock in the afternoon of the day following this great event, had been
+fixed when all these poor people, vagrants and beggars mostly, one or
+two political prisoners, perhaps, were to thank His Grace for their
+freedom publicly in the grounds of the Palace.
+
+The Cardinal, well aware of this, skilfully working too on the Queen's
+still restive jealousy, had suggested to Mary that Ursula Glynde should
+await the Duke of Wessex in the hall at fifteen minutes before the hour.
+
+"A quarter of an hour, Your Majesty," he said insinuatingly, when first
+on that same morning he had broached the subject, "fifteen short
+minutes, during which the breach 'twixt His Grace and a disgraced maiden
+can but be irretrievably widened."
+
+"Your Eminence seems to think that I desire a breach," retorted Mary
+with Tudor-like haughtiness.
+
+"Far from me even to think such a thought," rejoined the Cardinal
+blandly; "but as a faithful servant of Your Majesty, soon to become a
+loyal subject when Your Grace is Queen of Spain, I hold the welfare of
+all those whom you deign to honour very much at heart. . . . And I was
+thinking of His Grace of Wessex."
+
+"What of him, my lord?"
+
+"The Duke is proud, Your Majesty; would it be well, think you, if a girl
+of Lady Ursula Glynde's reputation were to become Duchess of Wessex?"
+
+"Think you she hath the desire?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_" he replied guardedly, "but an Your Majesty will trust my
+judgment, a brief interview with His Grace would soon scatter her hopes
+to the winds."
+
+Thus did this astute diplomatist play upon every fibre of a woman's
+emotions. His calculations were made to a nicety--only the interview
+which Ursula had demanded and no more! This to pacify the young girl in
+case she became defiant, but the meeting itself just short enough to
+avoid any harm.
+
+At twenty minutes before two, Ursula was bidden to the Great Hall by
+command of Her Majesty. The Duchess of Lincoln--tearful and
+kind--received her in the great window embrasure. Her motherly heart
+ached to see the bitter sorrow of the beautiful girl, who had been so
+full of vitality and merriment a brief fortnight ago.
+
+With a strange instinct, which she herself could not have explained,
+Ursula had dressed herself all in white. A rich brocaded kirtle and
+shimmery silken paniers seemed to accentuate the dull pallor of her
+cheeks. Only her golden hair gave a brilliant note of colour and of life
+to this marble statue, who seemed only to exist through its blue
+magnetic eyes.
+
+"The page has gone to bid His Grace of Wessex attend upon you here, my
+child," said the good old Duchess, as she took Ursula's cold hands in
+hers, and mechanically stroked them with her own kind, wrinkled palms.
+
+"Think you he will come?" asked Ursula dully.
+
+"I doubt not but he will, my dear. His Grace owes you his life."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"But before he comes, my treasure," murmured the dear old soul, "I would
+have you know that I'll never believe aught, save that you are good and
+pure. Some day, perhaps, you will love me well enough to tell me the
+secret which is gnawing at your heart."
+
+She paused, quite frightened at the expression of intense soul-agony
+which was suddenly apparent in every line of the wan young face.
+
+Ursula bent her tall, graceful figure, and raising the gentle motherly
+hands to her hot lips she kissed them with passionate tenderness.
+
+"In God's name, my dear, kind Duchess," she murmured, "do not speak soft
+words to me. The Holy Virgin has helped me to keep calm; I must not
+break down . . . not now . . . that he is coming."
+
+Now there was the sound of firm footsteps crossing the chamber beyond.
+Ursula drew herself up, and for a moment a strange, scared expression
+came into her face, then one of intense, yet inexpressible tenderness.
+
+Mutely she beckoned to the old Duchess, who, understanding this earnest
+appeal, withdrew without uttering another word.
+
+The next moment the door at the further end of the hall was opened. A
+page loudly announced--
+
+"His Grace the Duke of Wessex!"
+
+And for the first time since the awful moment when alien intrigues had
+parted them, these two, who had so fondly loved, so deeply suffered,
+were alone, face to face at last.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+THE LAST FAREWELL
+
+
+She saw in a moment how much older he looked, and quaintly wondered
+whether the black doublet and cloak caused him to seem so. Harry
+Plantagenet--happiest of dogs now that his master roamed about with him
+once more--walked with a proud step beside him.
+
+She looked such a dainty picture, framed in the rich embrasure of the
+great window, her graceful figure with its crown of gold looking
+majestic and noble on the raised dais, ethereal and almost ghostlike,
+with its rich white draperies.
+
+Just for one moment as Wessex entered the room the events of the last
+fortnight suddenly vanished from his memory. She was there before him,
+in that same soft gown of white, as she had stood that day, with a sheaf
+of roses in her arms--or were they marguerites?--and once more, as he
+had done then, he vaguely wondered what colour were her eyes. On his
+lips he seemed to feel again the savour of her passionate kiss, and once
+again to smell the perfume of her golden hair as for that one brief,
+heavenly minute she had lain next to his heart.
+
+But reality--wanton, crude, and cruel--chased this brief, happy vision
+away with one cut of her swishing lash, and then brought before his eyes
+that same face and form, but with wild, restless eyes, bare neck and
+bosom, and with the Spaniard's hand resting masterfully on her
+shoulder. And Ursula, who had watched him keenly, saw the cold,
+contemptuous look in his eyes, the shudder which shook his powerful
+frame as he approached her, and she even seemed actually to be touching
+that stony barrier of wilful self-control, which he interposed between
+himself and her.
+
+But the obeisance which he made to her was profound and full of cold
+respect.
+
+"You desired to speak with me, lady?" he said. "My life, which you have
+deigned to save, is entirely at your service."
+
+She had stepped down from the dais as he approached, calling upon every
+fibre within her, upon every power granted to a woman who loves to touch
+the heart of the loved one. Though she knew that for ever after, he and
+she would henceforth be parted, her heart had so yearned for him that
+vaguely she had begun to delude herself with the hope that after all
+only a great misunderstanding existed between him and her, and that
+before they spoke the last words of farewell their hands would meet just
+once again--only as friends--only as comrades perhaps--but closely,
+trustfully for all that.
+
+It was solely in this hope that she had begged for an interview.
+
+His coldness chilled her. Now that he was near her again, she once more
+became conscious of that bitter feeling of awful jealousy which had
+caused her the most exquisite heart-ache which a human being could be
+called upon to endure. Memory brought back to her the vision of another
+woman--an unknown creature whom he loved, to the destruction of his own
+soul and honour.
+
+And with the advent of this memory the tender appeal died upon her lips,
+and she only said in a hard, callous voice--
+
+"Is that all that Your Grace would say to me?"
+
+"Nay, indeed," he replied with the same icy calm, "there is much I ought
+to say, is there not? I should tell you how grateful I am for my life,
+which I owe to you. And yet I cannot even find it in my heart to say
+'thank you' for so worthless a gift."
+
+"Does life then seem so bitter now that the woman you love has proved a
+wanton and a coward?" she retorted vehemently.
+
+He looked at her, a little puzzled by her tone, then said quietly--
+
+"Nay! the woman I loved has proved neither a wanton nor a coward . . .
+only an illusion, a sweet dream of youth and innocence, which I, poor
+fool, mistook for reality."
+
+There was such an infinity of sadness, of deception, and of
+life-enduring sorrow in his voice as he spoke that every motherly
+instinct, never far absent from a true woman's heart, was aroused in
+hers in an instant. She forgot her bitterness in the intensity of her
+desire to comfort him, and she said quite gently--
+
+"You loved her very dearly, then?"
+
+"I worshipped my dream, but 'tis gone."
+
+"Already?" she asked, not understanding.
+
+And he, not comprehending, replied--
+
+"Nothing flies so quickly as an illusion when it is on the wing."
+
+Then he added more lightly--
+
+"But I pray you, do not think of that. I am grateful to you--very
+grateful. Your ladyship hath deigned to send for me. What do you desire
+of me? My name and protection are now at your service, and I am
+ready--whenever you wish it--to fulfil the promise our fathers made on
+our behalf."
+
+She drew back as if a poisoned adder had stung her.
+
+At first she had not realized what he meant to say; then the intention
+dawned upon her and the insult nearly knocked her down like a blow. She
+could hardly speak, her own words seemed to choke her; her rich young
+blood flew to her pallid cheeks and dyed them with the crimson hue of
+shame.
+
+"You would . . . ?" she murmured faintly. "You thought that I . . . ?
+Oh! . . ." she gasped in the infinity of her pain.
+
+But like the wounded beast when first it sees its own hurt, so did this
+man now--gentle, artistic, fastidious though he was--suddenly feel every
+cruel instinct of the primitive savage rise within him at the thought of
+the great wrong which he believed this woman had done him. All the
+latent tenderness in his heart was crushed. Manlike, he only longed now
+to make her suffer one tithe of the agony which he had endured because
+of her treachery. He thought that she had played with him and fooled him
+in sheer wantonness, and he wished to crush her pride, her youth, her
+gaiety as she had broken his life and his honour.
+
+He despised her for what she had done, and longed to let her see the
+full measure of his contempt. Glad that he had succeeded in hurting her,
+he tried to turn the blade within the wound.
+
+"Nay, you need have no fear, lady," he said, "the wars in France will
+soon claim my presence, and the world will be quite ready to forgive to
+the Duchess of Wessex the sins of Lady Ursula Glynde, especially after a
+chance French arrow had made her free again."
+
+But it was the very magnitude of the insult which restored to Ursula her
+self-possession, nor would she let him see now how deeply she was
+wounded. With her self-control, her dignity also returned to her, and
+she said with a coldness at least equal to his own--
+
+"The world has naught to forgive me, as you know best, my lord."
+
+"Nay! but I know that I must be grateful. By the mass! the story was
+well concocted, and I must congratulate you, fair Bacchante!" He laughed
+bitterly, ironically. "Your honour threatened! . . . my timely
+interference! . . . and I who feared for the moment you might make full
+confession."
+
+"Confession of what? . . . you are mad, my lord."
+
+She had drawn nearer to him, and for the first time since the
+commencement of this terrible tragedy of errors, one corner of that veil
+of impenetrable mystery was lifted from before her eyes. She did not
+make even a remote guess at the truth as yet, but vaguely she became
+aware that she and this man whom she loved were at some deadly
+cross-purposes, were playing at some horrible hide-and-seek, wherein
+they were staking their life and happiness. There was something in his
+look which suddenly revealed to that unerring feminine instinct in her
+that his bitterness, his cruelty, his insults, had their rise in a heart
+overburdened with a hopeless passion. He, the most perfect gentleman,
+most elegant courtier of his time, did not even try to curb his tongue,
+when speaking to her, who had never wronged him, and who had nobly saved
+his life, when he must _know_ that she had done it out of disinterested
+self-sacrifice.
+
+_Did he know that?_
+
+The question struck at her heart with sudden, overwhelming power. The
+look of him, his whole attitude, told her in a vague, undefinable,
+ununderstandable way that it was _herself_ whom he loved, that he
+despised her for something she had not done, and yet that he spoke of
+_her_ when he sighed after an illusion.
+
+"Confession of what? You are mad, my lord!" she repeated wildly.
+
+"Aye! mad!" he said bitterly, "mad when I feel the magic of your eyes
+stealing my honour away! . . . mad, indeed! for with a fellow-creature's
+blood still warm upon that dainty hand, I long to fall on my knees and
+cover it with kisses."
+
+His voice broke almost in a sob now that at last he had given utterance
+to that which had weighed on his soul all these days. He loathed her
+crime, yet loved her more passionately than before. Oh! eternal mystery
+of the heart of man!
+
+"Blood on my hands?" she retorted violently. "You are mad, my lord . . .
+mad, I say! A man's blood? . . . Did you not then kill Don Miguel to
+save her whom you loved? . . . did you not suffer disgrace, prepare for
+death, all because of her? . . . Did I not lie for you, give up mine
+honour . . . mine all for you? . . . Is it I who am mad, my lord, or
+you?"
+
+"Nay! an you will have it so, fair one," he replied, trying to steady
+his voice, which still was trembling, "'tis I am mad! I'll believe
+anything, doubt everything, mine eyes, mine ears . . . the memory of you
+. . . as I saw you that night. . . . I'll try to remember only that I
+owe you my life . . . such as it is . . . and let my senses be gladdened
+at the thought that you are beautiful."
+
+Ursula watched him with wild, burning eyes. Was the truth dawning at
+last? She, as the woman, was bent on knowing what lay hidden beneath the
+expression of this debasing passion. He, as the man, had fought a battle
+and lost; he loved her too madly, too completely to tear her out of his
+life. His passion _had_ become base; he despised himself now more than
+he had ever despised her, but he could no longer battle against that
+overpowering desire to fold her once more to his heart, to forgive and
+forget all save her beauty and the magic of her presence.
+
+But she, though loving as ardently as he, wanted the truth above all.
+Never would she have accepted this degrading passion, which would have
+left her for ever bruised and ashamed. She mustered up all her energy,
+all her presence of mind; it was her turn now to fight for happiness and
+for honour.
+
+Who knows what destiny fate would have meted out to these two young
+people if only she had been left a free hand? Would she have brought
+them together or parted them finally and for ever? The fickle jade
+smiled upon them for a moment or two, then allowed a stronger hand to
+lead her away into bondage.
+
+So accurately had the Cardinal de Moreno calculated his chance of final
+success that he himself was able to lead the Queen of England to the
+Great Hall for the approaching ceremony, at the very moment when Wessex
+and Ursula were on the point of understanding one another.
+
+Ursula had just uttered an energetic and momentous--
+
+"My lord! . . ."
+
+She had stepped away from him and was looking him fearlessly in the
+face, resolved to question and cross-question until she understood
+everything, when the door was suddenly opened and Mary Tudor appeared,
+escorted by some of her ladies, and accompanied by His Eminence the
+Spanish envoy.
+
+It was the stroke of a relentless sword across the Gordian knot which
+she had sought to unravel. She had only just made up her mind to stake
+her all upon a final throw of the dice--an explanation with Wessex. He
+was still completely deceived. She could see that what she already more
+than guessed he had not even begun to suspect. The idea of a gigantic
+misunderstanding had not yet entered his brain; she would have brought
+it before him, made him understand. . . . And fate suddenly said, No!
+
+Fate, or that cruel hand which pulled the strings that brought all
+puppets forward on this momentous stage? The Cardinal had darted a
+quick, anxious look on Wessex and then had smiled with satisfaction.
+Ursula caught both look and smile, and also that sudden hardening of the
+Cardinal's clever face, and knew that her last chance had gone.
+
+Wessex had seemed relieved when the Queen entered, and Ursula knew that
+never again would she be allowed to see him alone, never again would she
+be able to speak to him undisturbed.
+
+"Nothing flies more quickly than an illusion when it is on the wing!"
+
+Nothing! . . . save happiness . . . when it begins to slip slowly away,
+and tired hands are too weak to retain it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+A FORLORN HOPE
+
+
+The Great Hall had quickly filled with ladies and gentlemen. Mary Tudor
+had rapidly approached the dais, holding out one gracious hand to Wessex
+and vouchsafing but a cold, callous look to Ursula Glynde, who, like
+some young, wounded fawn, seemed to be standing at bay, facing this
+crowd of indifferent spectators who had literally come between her and
+her happiness.
+
+It seemed as if Mary felt a cruel delight in bringing before the young
+girl's notice the hopelessness of her position, the irreparability of
+the breach which existed now between her and His Grace of Wessex.
+
+The Queen's jealous eyes had already noted the cold salutation with
+which Wessex so readily left Ursula's side, in order to turn to the
+new-comers. His Grace was evidently glad to see the end of a painful
+interview, and Mary was too weak a woman not to rejoice at sight of the
+heartache which was expressed in Ursula's pallid face, and not to try to
+enhance the pain of the wound.
+
+Therefore when Wessex respectfully kissed her hand she kept him close
+beside her, whispering tender words which she hoped her rival might
+hear.
+
+"It seems like a beautiful dream, my lord," she said gently, "to see you
+once more at our Court. The ugly nightmare is over, and I am almost
+happy."
+
+"I humbly thank Your Majesty," replied the Duke. "My whole life can
+henceforth be spent in expressing my gratitude for a graciousness,
+which I so little deserve."
+
+"Nay! I pray you to put us to the test, my dear lord. My heart aches
+with the desire to grant your every whim."
+
+"Then I beg of Your Majesty a command in France."
+
+"You wish to leave me?" said Mary with tender reproach.
+
+"I hope to save Calais for Your Majesty's crown."
+
+"Ah, my lord! I have more need of friends just now than cities! Whilst
+you go to France your Queen will wed King Philip of Spain."
+
+"I hope not, Your Majesty," he rejoined earnestly.
+
+"The letter of acceptance for my royal master already bears Her
+Majesty's signature," here interposed the Cardinal blandly.
+
+"Aye! I have pledged my royal word," added the Queen with a short sigh.
+"His Eminence hath served us well and . . ."
+
+She made an effort to steady her voice, and avoided meeting the anxious
+look which Wessex had cast upon her.
+
+"But we will not mar the happiness of this joyous day," she continued
+after a while, speaking with enforced cheerfulness. "My Lord High
+Steward here would desire our confirmation of the free pardon granted in
+honour of it, to all who were awaiting trial."
+
+"If Your Majesty will deign to append the royal signature," said Lord
+Chandois, who was fingering a large document.
+
+"With pleasure, my lord. Are there many awaiting trial?"
+
+Lord Chandois spread the document out on the table, and Mary Tudor
+prepared to sign it.
+
+"A dozen or so, Your Majesty," explained the Lord High Steward; "men
+and women accused of roguery, witchcraft, and vagabondage."
+
+With a bold stroke of her pen Mary added her royal name to the
+declaration of a free pardon.
+
+"Let them be set free," she said, while Lord Chandois once more took
+possession of the paper. "It is our royal desire that these poor louts
+should thank His Grace of Wessex for their liberty, which they owe to
+him."
+
+Once more she turned with her usual affectionate gentleness towards the
+Duke. Throughout this brief, seemingly indifferent scene, Ursula had
+stood by, like an image carved in stone.
+
+Etiquette forbade her retirement until the Queen granted her leave, and
+Mary seemed desirous to keep her close at hand, as a contrast, perhaps,
+to the exuberant joy which prevailed among the other ladies and
+gentlemen there.
+
+In the midst of all this merriment and gaiety, the hubbub of many
+voices, the pleasant laughter and lively banter, two silent figures
+stood out in strange contrast. Ursula, rigid, ghostlike in her white
+draperies, her young face expressive of hopeless despair and of deadly
+sorrow kept in check, lest indifferent eyes read its miserable tale; and
+Wessex, moving like an automaton among his friends, answering at random,
+trying with all his might to keep his thoughts from straying, his eyes
+from wandering, towards that beautiful statue, which now seemed like an
+exquisite carven monument of his own vanished happiness.
+
+No one took much notice of Ursula Glynde, she was the disgraced
+maid-of-honour, the fallen star, scarce worth beholding, and she was
+glad of this isolation, which the selfishness of her former friends
+created around her. She looked for the last time upon the pomp and
+pageant of this glittering Court life; her very soul yearned for the
+peace and seclusion of austere convent walls. For the last time too she
+looked upon the man on whom she had lavished all the tenderness of her
+romantic temperament, whom she had set up on a pedestal of chivalry from
+which she felt loath even now to dethrone him.
+
+She could see that he suffered and that he did not understand. The
+misunderstanding, which nothing could clear up now, still made a veil of
+darkness before his eyes. Her tender heart ached for him, her soul went
+out to him amidst all these people who laughed and chatted around her.
+For one brief moment their eyes met across a sea of indifferent
+faces--his lighted up with all the ardour of a never-fading passionate
+love, and hers spoke to him an eternal farewell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+POOR MIRRAB
+
+
+A few moments later the whole gay and giddy throng, like a flight of
+brilliantly hued butterflies, had fluttered out into the garden.
+
+The wintry sun was bestowing its last cold kiss on the terraces and
+bosquets of the park. Beyond, the landscape--wrapped in a delicate haze
+of purple--was gently swooning in the arms of this November afternoon.
+All bird-song was silent, save the harsh chirrup of aggressive sparrows
+and the occasional brisk note of an irrepressible robin.
+
+Close by the fountain a strange, dull group moved about somewhat
+listlessly--men and women, a dozen or so, in faded or ragged worsted
+mantles, shoes through which the flesh appeared, and mud-stained,
+bedraggled hose. Truly a wondrous spectacle on the delicately gravelled
+paths of the regal residence! a remarkable picture against the majestic
+background of carefully trimmed hedges, or conventional, well-cared-for
+shrubberies.
+
+They looked indifferently round them, these poor shreds of society--the
+happy recipients of unlooked-for royal bounty. There were all sorts and
+conditions of men and women here, from the wrinkly-visaged hag who plied
+a precarious trade in illicit goods, to the hardened, sullen lout who
+made of Her Majesty's prisons an habitual home. A vagrant too here and
+there--one boy, barely in his teens, with pinched, haggard features, on
+which starvation had already scribbled her ugly name; a young girl, with
+bold, dark eyes, and coarse face masked with glaring cosmetics; and, far
+in the remote background, a huddled-up figure of a woman in tawdry
+finery, with a torn, bedraggled white dress ill concealing her naked
+shoulders, a few scraps of faded ivy-leaves still clinging to her
+bright-hued, matted hair.
+
+They were astonished to find themselves here: made curious, senseless
+jokes about the marble basin, the trimmed shrubs, the fish in the ponds.
+The whole thing was a puzzle, and poverty and hunger had dulled all joy
+in them. They had been told that by the Queen's desire and at His Grace
+of Wessex' prayer, they were to be immune from punishment for their
+present offences, and a vague, dull wonder as to the meaning of this
+unexpected clemency filled their benighted souls. They were at liberty,
+inasmuch as no man-at-arms actually dogged their footsteps, but they
+felt the eyes of stern guardians, court lackeys, or park-keepers fixed
+unrelentingly upon them.
+
+So they did not take special advantage of this so-called freedom, nor of
+the permission to roam about at will in Her Majesty's own garden. They
+clung together in one compact group, feeling a certain strength in this
+union of their common misery, and stared open-mouthed at what was
+nearest to them and required least effort of the brain to understand.
+
+When at a given moment they saw a number of rich lords and ladies emerge
+upon the distant terrace, they felt wholly terrified, and would have
+beaten a quick and general retreat had not one of the royal servitors
+suddenly called upon them severally to listen.
+
+"His Grace the Duke of Wessex is coming to speak with ye!" said this
+gorgeously apparelled personage, addressing the massed group of
+miserable humanity. "Stay ye all here, until His Grace arrives. Your
+good behaviour may prove for your own good."
+
+And silently, dully, they obeyed. They ceased their aimless wanderings
+and concentrated their attention after a while upon a tall figure,
+dressed in rich black, which had detached itself from the brilliant
+groups on the terrace and was walking rapidly towards them.
+
+So that was His Grace the Duke of Wessex. A serious-minded gentleman,
+surely, but lately accused of murder, and proved to be innocent. They
+could not yet see his face, only his tall, robust figure moving swiftly
+towards them. Strange that a noble duke, a rich and great lord, should
+wish to speak with them. The women, as if half ashamed of their ragged
+kirtles, had retreated behind the men. The latter had doffed their caps
+and were mechanically passing their thin fingers through their tangled
+hair.
+
+Quite in the rear the female figure in the bedraggled white gown cowered
+against the edge of the marble basin.
+
+Then gradually His Grace came nearer, the women ventured to peep at him
+over the shoulders of the men. His face looked kind, though very sad.
+The poor people gathered up their courage to face him bravely since he
+came all unattended amongst them. One or two of the younger lads
+ventured as he approached to utter an humble--
+
+"God save His Grace of Wessex!"
+
+"I thank you all," he said graciously. "And now, my friends, I'd have
+you believe that 'twas not idle curiosity which hath brought me here
+beside you. But yesterday I stood like you, accused of offence against
+the law of the land. I have known the sorrows and humiliations of a
+public trial. By Her Majesty's grace you have escaped that trouble this
+time, and I have it at heart that all of you who, like myself, have
+passed through prison doors should not again be tempted to break the
+dictates of your lawgivers. Hunger and sorrow are evil councillors.
+Though I know naught of the one I'd have you think sometimes of me as
+one who has tasted of the bitter cup of sorrow, and thus thinking, I'd
+have you pray to God for mercy on my soul and on that of one who is more
+sinful, more misguided than yourselves."
+
+It was a strange little homily, thus delivered without any affectation
+by this high-born gentleman to his fellows in sorrow. They did not
+perhaps altogether understand him, but in his own quaint way he had
+appealed to a comradeship of misery, and the hearts of his hearers went
+out to him in a vague feeling of pity and reverence.
+
+They had no need to call for "largesse," for with his own hand he was
+already distributing gold to those from whom he had asked prayers.
+
+"God save Your Grace!" muttered men and women, as one by one their rough
+palms closed over the munificent donations.
+
+The ladies and gentlemen on the terrace had all watched this little
+scene from afar. After a while the curiosity of all these gay idlers was
+still further aroused. Some of them wished to watch it a little more
+closely, and began slowly strolling down the terrace steps, towards the
+quaint group made up of all these miserable vagrants surrounding the
+imposing, sable-clad figure of the Duke.
+
+The Queen herself, attracted by the novelty of the spectacle, and her
+heart ever yearning for the near presence of the man she still loved so
+dearly, turned her steps towards the marble basin, with His Eminence the
+Cardinal--ever a faithful attendant--by her side.
+
+When Mary Tudor, closely followed by some of her ladies and courtiers,
+thus reached the scene where the little drama was being enacted, they
+saw His Grace standing somewhat irresolutely beside the huddled figure
+of a woman, whose tawdry drapings and matted, brilliant hair presented
+a strange contrast to the dull greys and browns of the other people
+around her.
+
+"Wilt thou not hold thy hand out to me, wench," His Grace was saying
+somewhat impatiently. "I would fain help thee, as it hath pleased Heaven
+I should help thy companions in misfortune."
+
+The servitor who had stood close by all this while, lest the people
+prove too importunate or troublesome, now came up to the woman, and,
+less benevolently inclined than His Grace, he caught hold of her,
+somewhat rudely, by the shoulder.
+
+"Come, wench, wake up!" he said roughly, "think thou His Grace hath more
+time to waste on thee? She seems somewhat daft, so please Your Grace,"
+added the man with a shrug of the shoulders, "and hath not spoken since
+her arrest."
+
+"Who is she?"
+
+"Some vagrant or worse, so please Your Grace. She was arrested a
+fortnight ago, and hath never been heard to utter one word."
+
+"Wilt look up, wench?" said Wessex gently.
+
+"I dare not," murmured the woman under her breath.
+
+"Dare not? Why? I'll not harm thee."
+
+"'Tis I have wronged thee so."
+
+Wessex laughed lightly. Clearly the poor wretch was demented, but he
+would have liked to have put some money into her own hand, lest some
+unscrupulous person should rob her of his gift. Therefore he said as
+kindly as he could--
+
+"I forgive thee gladly any wrong thou mayst have done me, and now wilt
+look at me in token that thou'rt no more afraid?"
+
+There was silence for a few moments. The poor people, happy with the
+rich gifts in their hands, scared too by the presence of so many lords
+and ladies, among whom they, however, had not yet recognized the Queen,
+all retreated into the background, leaving Wessex and the strange woman
+alone and isolated from their own groups, his rich black doublet and
+fine mantle and plumes contrasting strangely against the dank,
+mud-bespattered white dress of the unfortunate vagrant.
+
+What a quaint picture did they present--these two, whose destinies had
+been so closely knit. No one spoke, for every one felt that curious,
+unexplainable awe which falls upon the spirit of every man and woman
+when in the presence of an unfathomable mystery. And that mystery, every
+one felt it. The woman's voice had such a solemn ring in it when she
+said, "'Tis I have wronged thee so."
+
+In the very midst of this awed silence the woman suddenly threw back her
+head, brushed the hair back from her face, and looked straight into the
+eyes of the Duke.
+
+She was wan and pale with hunger, smears of mud spoilt the beauty of her
+features, but there was a look even now in that face which made Wessex
+recoil with horror. He did not utter a word, but gazed on as if a
+ghostly vision had suddenly appeared before him and was mocking him with
+its terrifying aspects.
+
+Grinning monsters seemed to surround that girlish figure before him,
+pointing with claw-like fingers at the golden hair, the delicate
+straight nose, the childish mouth. As in a hellish panorama he suddenly
+saw the whole hideousness of the mistake which had wrecked his life's
+happiness, and half dazed, helpless, he gazed on as upon the risen
+spectre of his past.
+
+A murmur close behind him broke the spell of this magic moment.
+
+"So like the Lady Ursula," whispered one lady to her gallant.
+
+But the name seemed to have reached the woman's dulled ears, and to have
+struck upon a sensitive fibre of her intellect.
+
+"Ursula again!" she said vehemently, turning now to face the group of
+the elegant ladies who stood staring at her. "Why do you all plague me
+with that name? . . . I am Mirrab, the soothsayer . . . I've been taught
+to read the secrets of the stars, of the waters, the air, and the winds;
+I foretell the future and brew the elixir of life. Wessex saved my life!
+'tis his!--I read in the stars that he was in great danger and came to
+warn him!"
+
+Her apathy had totally deserted her now. She was gradually working
+herself up to a fever of excitement, talking more and more wildly, and
+letting her eyes roam restlessly on the brilliant groups before her--the
+ladies, the courtiers . . . the Queen. . . .
+
+Then they alighted upon the Cardinal de Moreno, who, pale to the lips,
+strove in vain to smother the growing agitation which had mastered him
+from the moment when he too first recognized Mirrab. Her passion at
+sight of him now turned to fury, and, pointing a vengeful finger at him,
+she shouted wildly--
+
+"'Twas he who tricked and fooled me . . . with smooth and lying tongue
+he cajoled me! . . . he and his friend . . . then they threatened to
+have me whipped . . . if I did not depart in peace!"
+
+Awed, horrified, every one listened. Mary Tudor herself hung upon the
+girl's lips. The Cardinal made a final effort to preserve his outward
+composure.
+
+"A madwoman!" he murmured with a shrug of the shoulders. "Your Majesty
+would do well to retire; there's danger in the creature's eyes."
+
+But Wessex was slowly coming to himself. His horror had vanished,
+leaving him calm before this terrible revelation. With the privilege
+ever accorded to him by the fond Queen, he now placed a firm hand upon
+her arm.
+
+"In the name of Your Majesty's ever-present graciousness to me, I
+entreat you to listen to this woman," he said quietly. "Meseems that
+some dastardly trick hath been played upon us all."
+
+The Cardinal tried to protest, but already Mary had acquiesced in
+Wessex' wish, with a nod of the head.
+
+"I have naught to refuse you, my dear lord," she said sadly.
+
+Vaguely she too had begun to guess the appalling riddle which had
+puzzled her for so long, and though her heart dimly felt that she was
+even now losing for ever the man whom she so ardently loved, she was too
+fearless a Queen, too much of a proud Tudor, not to see justice done in
+the face of so much treachery.
+
+Then Wessex once more turned to Mirrab.
+
+"Tell me, girl," he said with utmost calm and gentleness, lest he should
+scare again her poor, wandering wits, "tell me without any fear. . . . I
+am the Duke of Wessex and I saved thy life . . . then thou hadst the
+wish to warn me of some danger . . . and came to the Palace here . . .
+and my lord Cardinal tricked thee. . . . How?"
+
+"I do not know," she said piteously, turning appealing, dog-like eyes
+upon him. "They dressed me up in fine clothes . . . and then . . . then
+. . . when I saw thee . . . and wished to speak with thee . . . he . . .
+the dark foreigner barred the way . . . and I know not how it happened
+. . ." she added, as a trembling suddenly seized her whole body, "he
+jeered at me . . . and . . . and I killed him!"
+
+"'Twas thou, wench, who killed Don Miguel?" ejaculated the Queen,
+horrified. "Oh! . . ."
+
+But Wessex only bent his head and murmured in the intensity of his
+misery--
+
+"Heaven above me! . . . that I should have been so blind!"
+
+"I killed him . . ." repeated Mirrab with strange persistence, "I killed
+him . . . he would not let me go to thee."
+
+"A madwoman and a wanton," here protested the Cardinal with all the
+vigour at his command. "Surely Your Majesty will not believe this
+miserable creature's calumnies."
+
+"No, my lord," replied Mary with quiet dignity, "we'll believe nothing
+until we have heard what Lady Ursula Glynde has to say. Lady Alicia,"
+she added, turning to one of her maids-of-honour, "I pray you find the
+Lady Ursula. Tell her what has happened and bid her come to us."
+
+In the meanwhile, however, Mirrab seemed to have become aware of the
+consequences of her vehement confession. Her wandering wits came slowly
+back to her. Terrified, she looked from one to the other of the grave
+faces which were fixed upon her.
+
+"What will they do to me?" she murmured, turning appealing eyes on the
+one man whom she dared to trust.
+
+"Nay, Mirrab, have no fear," said Wessex kindly, as he took her rough
+hands in his and tried to soothe her scared spirits with a gentle touch.
+"Once by chance I saved thy life . . . but thou in return hast now
+restored to me that which is far dearer than life itself. I am eternally
+thy debtor, Mirrab, and I pledge thee the honour of Wessex that no harm
+shall come to thee . . . for I myself will beg for thy pardon of Her
+Majesty on my knees."
+
+"Nay, my lord," rejoined Mary Tudor earnestly, for he had turned to the
+Queen, prepared to proffer his request on his knees, "meseems a grievous
+wrong has been done to you--if unwittingly--by your Queen and country.
+Let the wench be free to pray to the Holy Virgin for her great sin. I
+myself will care for her, and she shall enter any convent she may
+choose, and be honoured there as if she had brought with her the richest
+dowry in the land. But," she added, turning to Lord Chandois, "I desire
+her to make full confession once more before you, my lord, in writing,
+and to swear to it and sign it with her name. You may go, wench," she
+said finally, turning to Mirrab, "your Queen has pardoned you. May you
+be happy in the peace of the convent. We will never forget you, and ever
+see that joy shall always be in your life."
+
+Slowly, as the Queen spoke, Mirrab sank upon her knees. It seemed to the
+poor girl as if God's angels were whispering words of comfort in her
+ear. Two servitors now came close to her, ready to lead her back to the
+Palace, there to place her under the charge of waiting-women until her
+confession had been duly written and sworn to.
+
+But before she finally allowed herself to be led away she once more
+turned to Wessex.
+
+"May I kiss thy hand?" she murmured gently.
+
+He gave her his hand, and she covered it with kisses, and then she
+passed out of his life, ever remembered by him, ever comforted, happy in
+the peaceful and silent home which the Queen had so royally provided for
+her.
+
+But this little interlude had roused the Cardinal's feverish impatience
+to boiling point. Already he had tortured his astute brain for some sort
+of issue out of this tangled web. He would not own a defeat so readily,
+certainly not before he made a final struggle to reassert the dignity of
+his position. He forced his face to express nothing but delicate irony,
+his eyes not to betray the slightest hint of fear.
+
+"Truly, this is somewhat curious justice," he said, as Mirrab's strange
+figure disappeared behind a turn of the tall yew hedge, "surely Your
+Majesty will not condemn unheard? . . ."
+
+"No, my lord Cardinal, not unheard," retorted Mary Tudor haughtily. "We
+have seen strange things to-day, and can only guess at the terrible
+tangle which caused the first gentleman in England to take upon himself
+the burden of a heinous crime."
+
+"And no doubt," added Wessex, "that His Eminence can solve the riddle of
+how a pure and noble girl was led into sacrificing her honour."
+
+"Nay!" retorted the Cardinal bitingly, "His Grace of Wessex is more
+competent than I to solve the riddle of a woman's heart. The Lady Ursula
+has confessed; this trick of trying to disprove her tale," he added with
+cutting sarcasm, "was well thought on by the most chivalrous gentleman
+in England. . . . An it satisfies His Grace," he continued with a
+careless shrug of the shoulders, "surely I could never wish to dispel so
+pleasant an illusion."
+
+Perhaps the Duke would have retorted in angry words, despite the
+unutterable contempt which he felt for this final poisoned shaft aimed
+at him by the Cardinal; but just then the groups which surrounded him,
+the Queen and His Eminence, parted, and Ursula Glynde stood before them
+all.
+
+She still wore the white robes which became her so well, but now they
+only helped to enhance the brilliancy of her hair, the clear blue of her
+eyes, and a certain rosy flush, which lent to her delicate face a
+delicious air of childishness and innocence. She looked at no one,
+though her eyes were actually fixed respectfully on the Queen, but her
+spirit seemed to have wandered off into a land of dreams.
+
+"Your Majesty sent for me?" she said.
+
+"Lady Alicia has told you?" rejoined the Queen.
+
+Ursula closed her glorious eyes. A ray of intense joy seemed to illumine
+her whole face, lighting it with a radiance which surely had its origin
+in heaven. Then she slowly turned her head towards Wessex, and in one
+little word told him all that her soul contained.
+
+"Everything!" she said.
+
+Everything! that is to say, his sin, his mistrust of her, his great
+passionate love, and self-sacrifice for her. Everything! which meant her
+own love, her own devotion, her joy to find him true and chivalrous, her
+happiness and her hope.
+
+Mary Tudor saw the look and its response from Wessex' eyes. She saw the
+end of the one dream which had filled her dull, rigid life and rendered
+it hopeful and bright. But she was above all a Tudor. She accepted the
+dictate of Fate, she bent the neck to a greater will than her own, and
+closed the book of her illusions, never to peruse its pages again. One
+last look at the man who had had the one passion of which her strange
+hard heart was capable, one short farewell to the vague hope, which
+until now would not be gainsaid.
+
+From now and to the end of her days she would be Queen alone--the woman
+lay buried amongst the autumn leaves which strewed the walks of old
+Hampton Court Palace.
+
+As Queen now she once more turned to Ursula. Justice in her demanded
+that every wrong should be righted, every misdoer punished.
+
+"Child," she said quietly, "it was not you then who was with Don
+Miguel?"
+
+"No, Your Majesty," replied Ursula, returning to earth at sound of the
+Queen's kindly voice, "Lady Alicia tells me that a girl . . . a poor,
+sad girl, was in face so like to me . . . that His Grace must have been
+mistaken . . . and . . ."
+
+"But, child . . . then why have told a lie? . . ."
+
+"His Eminence told me what to say before the Court, and promised His
+Grace would be saved by it."
+
+Her voice dropped to so low a murmur that no one heard it but the Queen
+. . . and Wessex.
+
+"I did it to save him!"
+
+"A lie, Your Majesty," protested the Cardinal.
+
+"The truth!" protested Ursula loudly. "I pray Your Majesty to look on me
+and him and see on whose face is writ the word--fear."
+
+Almost as if in obedience to Ursula's words Mary Tudor turned and faced
+the Spanish Cardinal. He tried to meet her look boldly. Even in defeat
+there was a certain grandeur in this man.
+
+He had staked and lost his own position, his future career, his hopes of
+a greater destiny, but he had succeeded in his schemes. He knew Mary
+Tudor well enough to rejoice in this--that she would never now break her
+word to Philip, even though she let the flood of her royal wrath fall
+full heavily upon him.
+
+"Go back, my lord, to your royal master," said Queen Mary with lofty
+contempt. "My word is my bond, and my pledge to him is sacred; but tell
+him, an he wishes to win the heart of the Queen of England, he must send
+an honest man to woo her."
+
+Then without another glance at him, without looking to see if he
+followed her or not, she beckoned to her ladies and gentlemen, her
+attendants and her courtiers, and, without once turning her royal head
+towards the spot where had died her happiness, she walked firmly in the
+direction of her Palace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+THE END
+
+
+And now every one had gone.
+
+The wintry sun was already sinking towards the west, faint purple
+shadows wrapped the alleys and bosquets of the park in dim and ghostly
+arms.
+
+The last call of a belated robin broke the silence of the gathering
+dusk, then it too was silenced, and only the "hush--sh--sh--sh" of
+fallen leaves on the gravelled path murmured a soft accompaniment to the
+music of the night.
+
+A man and a woman were alone beside the marble basin, face to face, eye
+to eye, yet finding not one word to say. Both had so much to atone for,
+so much to forgive, that mere words were but the poor expression of all
+that filled their hearts.
+
+The moments sped on--a few brief seconds or an eternity, who can say
+which?
+
+The shadows merged one in the other. Far away the river murmured gently.
+
+Now Wessex had sunk on his knees, and she bent down to him.
+
+All the birds had gone to rest; one by one, pale winter stars peeped
+down upon the gorgeous Palace, the majestic pile which had seen so many
+glories, hidden so many miseries, one by one they peeped down on the
+silent park, the mysterious river, the ghostly outlines of walls and
+cupolas.
+
+But beside the marble basin two human hearts had found one another, soul
+had gone out to soul at last, and Ursula lay once more in the arms of
+her future lord.
+
+
+
+
+PLYMOUTH
+
+W BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PRINTERS
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note: The majority of the text of this novel is taken from
+_The Tangled Skein_, the British edition. Some missing pages were taken
+from the American edition, titled _In Mary's Reign_: the text in Chapter
+VI, from "attempting to move, for she felt as if her knees would give
+way under her" to the end of the chapter, and from "conversation carried
+on in whispers" in Chapter XXXIV to "draw it from thee?" in Chapter
+XXXV, was taken from the American edition. The illustrations in this
+electronic text were also taken from _In Mary's Reign_.
+
+In addition, the following typographical errors present in the original
+text were corrected.
+
+In Chapter I, "a hunch of buck" was changed to "a haunch of buck".
+
+In Chapter VI, "swords and poinards" was changed to "swords and
+poniards".
+
+In Chapter IX, "Tis false!" was changed to "'Tis false!".
+
+In Chapter XI, "You wont be angry with me?" was changed to "You won't be
+angry with me?"
+
+In Chapter XIII, "partly of sarcasm, wholly of insousiance" was changed
+to "partly of sarcasm, wholly of insouciance".
+
+In Chapter XV, a missing quotation mark was added after "Your Grace.
+. . ."
+
+In Chapter XVII, "his latest flame? . . . ." was changed to "his latest
+flame? . . .", "Your Eminence. . . ." was changed to "Your Eminence
+. . .", "but. . . ." was changed to "but . . .", and a period was
+changed to a question mark after "we have the same object in view".
+
+In Chapter XIX, "An interview. . . ." was changed to "An interview
+. . .", "since you wish it. . . ." was changed to "since you wish it
+. . .", "dastardly trick. . . ." was changed to "dastardly trick . . .",
+and "Noother consideration" was changed to "No other consideration".
+
+In Chapter XXVI, "vaugely hoping" was changed to "vaguely hoping".
+
+In Chapter XXVII, a missing period was added after "this dastardly
+trick".
+
+In Chapter XXIX, "In the court. . . ." was changed to "In the court
+. . ."
+
+In Chapter XXX, "commited excesses of unparalleled cruelty" was changed
+to "committed excesses of unparalleled cruelty".
+
+In Chapter XXXIII, "so full of bevenolence" was changed to "so full of
+benevolence", and "having proved Robert D'Esclade" was changed to
+"having proved Robert d'Esclade".
+
+In Chapter XXXIX, "a graciousnesss, which I so little deserve" was
+changed to "a graciousness, which I so little deserve". and a missing
+period was added after "all who were awaiting trial".
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Tangled Skein, by Emmuska Orczy, Baroness Orczy
+
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