Still all was calm and quiet in the palace of Whitehall. Nothing was stirring, and nobody had heard how Lady Jane Douglas left her chamber and glided down the corridor.
No one has heard it, and no eye is awake, and none sees what is now taking place in the queen's room. She is alone--all alone. The servants are all asleep in their chambers. The queen herself has bolted the doors of the anteroom on the inside, and no other door leads into her boudoir and bedroom, except through this anteroom.
She is therefore perfectly secluded, perfectly secure.
Speedily and in haste she envelops herself in a long black mantle, the hood of which she draws well over her head and brow, and which completely covers and conceals her form.
And now she presses on a spring inserted in the frame of a picture.
The picture flies back and shows an opening, through which a person can quite conveniently pass out.
Catharine does so. Then she carefully pushes the picture back to its place from the outside, and for a long time walks on in the passage hollowed out of the solid wall, till groping along she at last lays hold again of a knob in the wall. She presses on it; and now at her feet opens a trap-door, through which a feeble light forces its way and renders visible a small narrow staircase there situated.
Catharine enters and descends the steps with winged feet. Now at the foot of the staircase she again presses on a secret spring; and again a door opens, through which the queen passes into a large hall.
"Oh," whispered she, fetching a long breath, "the green summer house at last."She quickly traversed it and opened the next door.
"John Heywood?"
"I am here, queen!"
"Hush, hush! gently as possible, that the watch, who walks up and down just behind the door, may not hear us. Come, we still have a long walk--let us make haste."Again she pressed on a spring inserted in the wall; and again a door opens. But before Catharine bolts this door, she takes the lamp burning on the table there, which is to lighten the dark and difficult path through which they are now to wend their way.
Now she bolts the door behind them; and they enter a long, dark corridor, at the end of which is found still another staircase, and down which they both go. Numberless steps conduct them below;gradually the air becomes dense, the steps moist. The stillness of the grave is around them. No sound of life, not the least noise, is now perceptible.
They are in a subterranean passage, which stretches out in length before them farther than the eye can reach. Catharine turns to John Heywood; the lamp lights up her face, which is pale, but exhibits an expression firm and resolute.
"John Heywood, reflect once more! I ask not whether you have courage, for I know that. I only wish to know whether you will employ this courage for your queen?""No, not for the queen, but for the noble woman who has saved my son.""You must then be my protector to-day if we meet with dangers. But if it be God's will, we shall encounter no dangers. Let us go."They go vigorously forward, silent all the way. At length they come to a place where the passage grows broader, and spreads out into a little open chamber, on the side walls of which a few teats are placed.
"We have now accomplished half of the journey," said Catharine; "and here we will rest a little."She placed the lamp on the small marble table in the middle of the passage, and sat down, pointing to John Heywood to take a seat near her.
"I am not the queen, here," said she; "and you are not the king's fool; but I am a poor weak woman, and you are my protector. You may, therefore, well have the right to sit by me."But John shook his head with a smile, and sat down at her feet. "St.
Catharine, savior of my son, I lie at thy feet, and devoutly return thanks to thee.""John, are you acquainted with this subterranean passage?" asked the queen.
John gave a sad smile. "I am acquainted with it, queen.""Ah, you know it? I supposed it was a secret of the king and queen.""Then you will readily conceive that the fool knows it. For the King of England and the fool are twin brothers. Yes, queen, I know this passage; and I once wended it in anguish and tears.""What! You yourself, John Heywood?""Yes, queen. And now I ask you, do you know the history of this underground passage? You are silent. Now, well for you that you do not know it. It is a long and bloody history, and if I should narrate to you the whole of it, the night would be too short for it.
