"She is saved!" murmured he, while he thrust the fatal paper into his doublet, and fastened the clasp again with the pin." She is saved, and the king will not sign her death-warrant this time."Catharine had read the letter to the end, and hid it in her bosom.
"Queen, you have sworn to burn up every letter that I bring you from him; for, forbidden love-letters are dangerous things. One day they may find a tongue and testify against you! Queen, I will not bring you again another letter, if you do not first burn that one.""John, I will burn it up when once I have really read it. Just now Iread it only with my heart, not with my eyes. Allow me, then, to wear it on my heart a few hours more.""Do you swear to me that you will burn it up this very day?""I swear it.""Then I will be satisfied this time. Here is your rosette; and like the famous fox in the fable, that pronounced the grapes sour because he could not get them, I say, take your rosette back; I will have none of it."He handed the queen the rosette, and she smilingly fastened it on her shoulder again.
"John," said she, with a bewitching smile, extending her hand to him, "John, when will you at length permit me to thank you otherwise than with words? When will you at length allow your queen to reward you for all this service of love, otherwise than with words?"John Heywood kissed her hand, and said mournfully: "I will demand a reward of you on the day when my tears and my prayers succeed in persuading you to renounce this wretched and dangerous love. On that day I shall have really deserved a reward, and I will accept it from you with a proud heart.""Poor John! So, then, you will never receive your reward; for that day will never come!""So, then, I shall probably receive my reward, but from the king;and it will be a reward whereby one loses hearing and sight, and head to boot. Well, we shall see! Till then, farewell, queen! I must to the king; for somebody might surprise me here, and come to the shrewd conclusion that John Heywood is not always a fool, but sometimes also the messenger of love! I kiss the hem of your garment; farewell, queen!"He glided again through the private door.
"Now we will at once examine this paper," said he, as he reached the corridor and was sure of being seen by no one.
He drew the paper out of his doublet and opened it. "I do not know the hand-writing," muttered her, "but it was a woman that wrote it.""The letter read: "Do you believe me now, my beloved? I swore to deliver to you to-day, in the presence of the king and all of my court, this rosette; and I have done so. For you I gladly risk my life, for you are my life; and still more beautiful were it to die with you, than to live without you. I live only when I rest in your arms; and those dark nights, when you can be with me, are the light and sunshine of my days. Let us pray Heaven a dark night may soon come; for such a night restores to me the loved one, and to you, your happy wife, Geraldine.""Geraldine! who is Geraldine?" muttered John Heywood, slipping the paper into his doublet again. "I must disentangle this web of lying and deceit. I must know what all this means. For this is more than a conspiracy--a false accusation. It concerns, as it seems, a reality.
This letter the queen is to give to a man; and in it, sweet recollections, happy nights, are spoken of. So he who receives this letter is in league with them against Catharine, and I dare say her worst enemy, for he makes use of love against her. Some treachery or knavery is concealed behind this. Either the man to whom this letter is addressed is deceived--and he is unintentionally a tool in the hands of the papists--or he is in league with them, and has given himself up to the villainy of playing the part of a lover to the queen. But who can he be? Perchance, Thomas Seymour. It were possible; for he has a cold and deceitful heart, and he would be capable of such treachery. But woe be to him if it is he! Then it will be I who accuses him to the king; and, by God! his head shall fall! Now away to the king!"Just as he entered the king's anteroom, the door of the cabinet opened, and the Duchess of Richmond, accompanied by Earl Douglas, walked out.
Lady Jane and Gardiner were standing, as if by accident, near the door.
"Well, have we attained our end there also?" asked Gardiner.
"We have attained it," said Earl Douglas. "The duchess has accused her brother of a liaison with the queen. She has deposed that he sometimes leaves the palace by night, and does not return to it before morning. She has declared that for four nights she herself dogged her brother and saw him as he entered the wing of the castle occupied by the queen; and one of the queen's maids has communicated to the duchess that the queen was not in her room on that night.""And the king listened to the accusation, and did not throttle you in his wrath!""He is just in that dull state of rage in which the lava that the crater will afterward pour forth, is just prepared. As yet all is quiet, but be sure there will be an eruption, and the stream of red-hot lava will busy those who have dared excite the god Vulcan.""And does he know about the rosette?" asked Lady Jane.
"He knows everything. And until that moment he will allow no one to suspect his wrath and fury. He says he will make the queen perfectly secure, in order to get into his hands thereby sure proof of her guilt. Well, we will furnish him this evidence; and hence it follows that the queen is inevitably lost.""But hark! The doors are opened, and the master of ceremonies comes to summon us to the golden gallery.""Just walk in," muttered John Heywood, gliding along behind them. "Iam still here; and I will be the mouse that gnaws the net in which you want to catch my noble-minded lioness."
