From the niche in which John Heywood had hid himself he could survey the entire corridor and all the doors opening into it--could see everything and hear everything without being himself seen, for the projecting pilaster completely shaded him.
So John Heywood stood and listened. All was quiet in the corridor.
In the distance was now and then heard the deadened sound of the music; and the confused hum of many voices from the festive halls forced its way to the listener's ear.
This was the only thing that John Heywood perceived. All else was still. But this stillness did not last long. The corridor was lighted up, and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps was heard.
It was the gold-laced lackeys, who bore the large silver candelabra to light the queen, who, with her train of ladies, was passing through the corridor.
She looked wondrously beautiful. The glare of the candles borne before her illumined her countenance, which beamed with cheerfulness. As she passed the pillar behind which John Heywood was standing, she was talking in unrestrained gayety with her second maid of honor; and a clear and lively laugh rang from her lips, which disclosed both rows of her dazzling white teeth. Her eyes sparkled; her checks were flushed with a rich red; bright as stars glittered the diamonds in the diadem that encircled her lofty brow;like liquid gold shone her dress of gold brocade, the long trail of which, trimmed with black ermine, was borne by two lovely pages.
Arrived at the door of her bed-chamber, the queen dismissed her pages and lackeys, and permitted only the maid of honor to cross the threshold of her chamber with her.
In harmless gossip the pages glided down the corridor and the staircase. Then came the lackeys who bore the candelabra. They also left the corridor.
Now all was quiet again. Still John Heywood stood and listened, firmly resolved to speak to the queen yet that night, even should he be obliged to wake her from sleep. Only he wanted to wait till the maid of honor also had left the queen's room.
Now the door opened, and the maid of honor came out. She crossed the corridor to that side where her own apartments were situated. John Heywood heard her open the door and then slide the bolt on the inside.
"Now but a brief time longer, and I will go to the queen," muttered John Heywood.
He was just going to leave his lurking-place, when he perceived a noise as if a door were slowly and cautiously opened.
John Heywood cowered again close behind the pillar, and held his breath to listen.
A bright light fell over the corridor. A dress came rustling nearer and nearer.
John Heywood gazed astounded and amazed at the figure, which just brushed past without seeing him.
That figure was Lady Jane Douglas--Lady Jane, who, on account of indisposition, had retired from the feast in order to betake herself to rest. Now, when all rested, she watched--when all laid aside their festive garments, she had adorned herself with the same. Like the queen, she wore a dress of gold brocade, trimmed with ermine, and, like her, a diadem of diamonds adorned Lady Jane's brow.
Now she stood before the queen's door and listened. Then a fierce sneer flitted across her deathly pale face, and her dark eyes flashed still more.
"She sleeps," muttered she. "Only sleep, queen--sleep till we shall come to wake you! Sleep, so that I can wake for you."She raised her arm threateningly toward the door, and wildly shook her head. Her long black ringlets encircled and danced around her sullen brow like the snakes of the furies; and pale and colorless, and with demon-like beauty, she resembled altogether the goddess of vengeance, in scornful triumph preparing to tread her victim beneath her feet.
With a low laugh she now glided adown the corridor, but not to that staircase yonder, but farther down to the end, where on the wall hung a life-size picture of Henry the Sixth. She pressed on a spring; the picture flew open, and through the door concealed behind it Lady Jane left the corridor.
"She is going to the green-room to a meeting with Henry Howard!"whispered John Heywood, who now stepped forth from behind the pillar. "Oh, now I comprehend it all; now the whole of this devilish plot is clear to me; Lady Jane is Earl Surrey's lady-love, and they want to make the king believe that it is the queen. Doubtless this Surrey is with them in the conspiracy, and perhaps he will call Jane Douglas by the name of the queen. They will let the king see her but a moment. She wears a gold brocade dress and a diamond diadem like the queen; and thereby they hope to deceive Henry. She has the queen's form precisely; and everybody knows the astonishing similarity and likeness of Lady Jane's voice to that of the queen.
Oh, oh, it is a tolerably cunning plot! But nevertheless you shall not succeed, and you shall not yet gain the victory. Patience, only patience! We likewise will be in the green-room, and face to face with this royal counterfeit we will place the genuine queen!"With hurried step John Heywood also left the corridor, which was now lonely and still, for the queen had gone to rest.
Yes, the queen slept, and yet over yonder in the green-room everything was prepared for her reception.
It was to be a very brilliant and extraordinary reception; for the king, in his own person, had betaken himself to that wing of the castle, and the chief master of ceremonies, Earl Douglas, had accompanied him.
To the king, this excursion, which he had to make on foot, had been very troublesome; and this inconvenience had made him only still more furious and excited, and the last trace of compassion for his queen had disappeared from the king's breast, for on Catharine's account he had been obliged to make this long journey to the green-room; and with a grim joy Henry thought only how terrible was to be his punishment for Henry Howard and also for Catharine.
