"What shall I write?" asked the king, who, by the exertion of his night's excursion, and of his anger and vexation, began at length to be exhausted.
"An order for the queen's imprisonment, sire."The king wrote. Earl Douglas stood behind him, with eager attention, in breathless expectation, his look steadily fixed on the paper over which the king's hand, white, fleshy, and sparkling with diamonds, glided along in hasty characters.
He had at length reached his goal. When at last he should hold in his hand the paper which the king was then writing--when he had induced Henry to return to his apartments before the imprisonment of the queen had taken place--then was he victorious. Not that woman there would he then imprison; but, with the warrant in his hand, he would go to the real queen, and take her to the Tower.
Once in the Tower, the queen could no longer defend herself; for the king would see her no more; and if before the Parliament she protested her innocence in ever so sacred oaths, still the king's testimony must convict her; for he had himself surprised her with her paramour.
No, there was no escape for the queen. She had once succeeded in clearing herself of an accusation, and proving her innocence, by a rebutting alibi. But this time she was irretrievably lost, and no alibi could deliver her.
The king completed his work and arose, whilst Douglas, at his command, was employed in setting the king's seal to the fatal paper.
From the hall was heard a slight noise, as though some person were cautiously moving about there.
Earl Douglas did not notice it; he was just in the act of pressing the signet hard on the melted sealing-wax.
The king heard it, and supposed that it was Geraldine, and that she was just waking from her swoon and rising.
He stepped to the door of the hall, and looked toward the place where she was lying. But no--she had not yet risen; she still lay stretched at full length on the floor.
"She has come to; but she still pretends to be in a swoon," thought the king; and he turned to Douglas.
"We are done," said he; "the warrant for imprisonment is prepared, and the sentence of the adulterous queen is spoken. We have done with her forever; and never shall she again behold our face, or again hear our voice. She is sentenced and damned, and the royal mercy has nothing more to do with this sinner. A curse on the adulteress! A curse on the shameless woman who deceived her husband, and gave herself up to a traitorous paramour! Woe to her, and may shame and disgrace forever mark her name, which--"Suddenly the king stopped and listened. The noise that he had heard just, before was now repeated louder and quicker; it came nearer and nearer.
And now the door opened and a figure entered--a figure which made the king stare with astonishment and admiration. It came nearer and nearer, light, graceful, and with the freshness of youth; a gold-brocade dress enveloped it; a diadem of diamonds sparkled on the brow; and brighter yet than the diamonds beamed the eyes.
"No, the king was not mistaken. It was the queen, She was standing before him--and yet she still lay motionless and stiff upon the floor yonder.
The king uttered a cry, and, turning pale, reeled a step backward.
"The queen!" exclaimed Douglas, in terror; and he trembled so violently that the paper in his hand rattled and fluttered.
"Yes, the queen!" said Catharine, with a haughty smile. "The queen, who comes to scold her husband, that, contrary to his physician's orders, he still refrains from his slumbers at so late an hour of the night.""And the fool!" said John Heywood, as with humorous pathos he stepped forward from behind the queen--"the fool, who comes to ask Earl Douglas how he dared deprive John Heywood of his office, and usurp the place of king's fool to Henry, and deceive his most gracious majesty with all manner of silly pranks and carnival tricks.""And who"--asked the king, in a voice quivering with rage, fastening his flashing looks on Douglas with an annihilating expression--"who, then, is that woman there? Who has dared with such cursed mummery to deceive the king, and calumniate the queen?""Sire," said Earl Douglas, who very well knew that his future and that of his daughter depended on the present moment, and whom this consciousness had speedily restored to his self-possession and calmness--"sire, I beseech your majesty for a moment of private explanation; and I shall be entirely successful in vindicating myself.""Do not grant it him, brother Henry," said John Heywood; "he is a dangerous juggler; and who knows whether he may not yet, in his private conversation, convince you that he is king, and you nothing more than his lickspittle, fawning, hypocritical servant Earl Archibald Douglas.""My lord and husband, I beg you to hear the earl's justification,"said Catharine, as she extended her hand to the king with a bewitching smile. "It would be cruel to condemn him unheard, I will hear him, but it shall be done in your presence, Kate, and you yourself shall decide whether or not his justification is sufficient.""No indeed, my husband; let me remain an entire stranger to this night's conspiracy, so that spite and anger may not fill my heart and rob me of the supreme confidence which I need, to be able to walk on at your side happy and smiling in the midst of my enemies.""You are right, Kate," said the king, thoughtfully. "You have many enemies at our court; and we have to accuse ourselves that we have not always succeeded in stopping our ear to their malicious whisperings, and in keeping ourselves pure from the poisonous breath of their calumny. Our heart is still too artless, and we cannot even yet comprehend that men are a disgusting, corrupt race, which one should tread beneath his feet, but never take to his heart. Come, Earl Douglas, I will hear you; but woe to you, if you are unable to justify yourself!"He retired to the embrasure of the large window of the boudoir. Earl Douglas followed him thither, and let the heavy velvet curtain drop behind them.
