Cut off from communication with the outer world; deprived of all books, save a few godly tracts left with him by Latimer, by whom he was occasionally visited, and who pronounced him in a most sinful, hardened, and deplorable condition; devoured by ambition; tormented by an incurable passion; the admiral, it will easily be imagined, passed his time wretchedly enough. Still, he was true to himself; still, he continued haughty and unyielding.
On the night of that unlucky day when the bill of attainder received the royal assent, of which circumstance he was informed by Tombs, he remained seated beside his table to a late hour, with his face covered by his hands.
All at once a noise, proceeding, as it seemed, from a loop. hole some feet from the ground, caused him to raise his eyes, and to his great astonishment he beheld, by the dim light of the iron lamp illumining the cell, a diminutive figure standing within the aperture. While he was staring at this apparition, the little personage called out:
“‘T is I, my lord—Xit, his majesty’s somewhile dwarf. Aid me to descend, I beseech you. An I leap I shall break my neck, and that is not a death I desiderate.”
On this, Seymour advanced towards the aperture, and catching the dwarf, who sprang towards him, in his arms, set him on the ground.
“What brings thee here?” said the admiral. “Know’st thou not it is as much as thy life is worth to visit me thus privily?”
“I know that right well, my lord,” replied Xit; “and I have adventured my life to serve you. Your generosity towards me demanded a return, and I determined to prove my gratitude. Having been discharged from my post near his majesty by the lord protector, because he found out that I had conveyed messages to your lordship, I have once more become an inmate of the Tower, and now lodge with the three giant warders. It was by the aid of Og, the elder of the brethren, that I obtained admission to your cell. He placed me on his shoulders, whence I clambered to yon loophole; and though it was no easy matter, even for one of my slender proportions, I contrived to squeeze myself through the bars. Og is standing outside to aid me on my return.”
“I owe thee much for thy fidelity,” replied Seymour, greatly touched by the dwarf’s devotion. “Of all who have profited by my bounty, thou art the only one who has exhibited gratitude. But how dost thou propose to aid me?”
“I thought your Lordship might desire to have some letter or message conveyed for you, and as I knew Master Tombs would neither do your will, nor allow it to be done, I have come thus privily to offer myself as your messenger.”
“I am much beholden to thee,” said Seymour. “I have not the means of writing a letter, or I would confide one to thee. My tablets are left me, but I have neither pen nor pencil.”
“That is most unlucky,” said Xit. “But I will come again—and better provided!”
“I Stay!” cried Seymour; “a plan occurs to me. This point shall answer my purpose.”
And plucking a sharp aglet from his dress, he punctured his arm with it, and proceeded to trace a few passionate words with his blood on a leaf of the tablets.
This done, he closed the book, tied it with a ribbon, and gave it to Xit.
“Deliver this, I pray thee, to the Princess Elizabeth,” he said. “Guard it as thy life. Hast thou any knowledge where her highness now is?”
“I have heard that she is at Shene,” replied Xit. “If so, I will engage that your lordship’s missive shall be delivered into her own hands to-morrow morning.”
“Thou wilt do me the greatest possible service,” cried the admiral. “Whatever betide, let me see thee again on the morning of my execution. I may have another letter or message for thee.”
“I will not fail,” replied Xit.
Seymour was about to tear some ornament from his attire in order to reward his little envoy, when Xit stopped him, saying he would accept nothing till he had executed his mission.