X

The Constable of the Tower by W. Harrison Ainsworth

“I must now entreat your Lordship’s aid to reach the loophole,” he said.

On this, Seymour lifted him from the ground, and the ascent was quickly and safely accomplished.

This done, Xit pressed his hand to his heart in token of devotion, and disappeared.

| Go to Table of Contents |

Chapter III

HOW THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH VISITED THE ADMIRAL IN HIS CELL

On the, following day, the admiral was again visited by Latimer, who strove, but ineffectually, to bend his haughty spirit and bring him to a state of penitence. Not being in a mood to listen to homilies, Seymour impatiently interrupted the divine, and bade him leave him in peace. Finding all his efforts fruitless, Latimer desisted, and took his departure, recommending the obdurate man to make his peace with Heaven, for his time was short.

Again night arrived. Seymour was pacing his cell, full of gloomy thought, when the door was unbarred, and the constable of the Tower entered. But not alone. He was attended by a young personage wrapped in an ample velvet mantle, whose features were so muffled up that by the dim light of the lamp it was difficult to determine whether they belonged to youth or maiden. But though the gaoler and others might have been deceived by this disguise, Seymour was not. He instantly recognized his beloved Elizabeth, and springing towards her, cried out, “Oh! you are come, princess!—you are come!” while she, throwing off her disguise, and disregarding the presence of the constable, flung herself into his arms.

Their first transports of delight had scarcely subsided, and they were still gazing at each other with unutterable fondness, almost unconscious where they were, when Sir John Gage deemed it necessary to interfere, and remind them that their interview must be brief.

“I am disobeying the lord protector and the council in allowing this visit,” he said; “but I could not resist the princess’s entreaties. However, I cannot give you many minutes. During that time I will remain outside.”

On this, he withdrew, and closed the door after him.

“Oh! Seymour!” exclaimed Elizabeth, looking passionately at him, “with what mingled feelings of rapture and anguish do I behold you again! When last we parted I thought you would return to me in triumph, and demand my hand. And now!—Oh! this is more than I can bear!” And she burst into a passionate flood of tears.

“Calm yourself, dearest Elizabeth,” said Seymour. “Your grief unmans me, and I have need of all my firmness.”

“Yes, I will be calm,” she rejoined. “I will smile and be cheerful, though my heart is breaking. Oh!” and she placed her hand upon her bosom—”think not that I have been indifferent to you, Seymour. No tongue can tell the anguish I have endured since your arrest. But the protector’s vigilance rendered it impossible for me to write to you, or convey any message, neither have I been permitted to see the king—or even to write to him—so that I could not plead in your behalf. The dreadful news of yesterday—that Edward had given his assent to the bill of attainder—had just reached me, and overwhelmed me with grief, when your faithful little messenger found me out, and delivered your tablets. Then I was resolved at all hazards to see you. Heedless of consequences, I left Shene this afternoon with the trusty dwarf, who served me with the utmost devotion, and through his agency obtained admittance to Sir John Gage, who, while blaming my rashness, yielded at length to my entreaties, and brought me hither.”

“Heaven bless him for it!” exclaimed Seymour. “He has given me more happiness than I ever expected on earth. The thought of this meeting will cheer me on the scaffold.”

“You shall not die, Seymour,” shrieked Elizabeth. “‘T is horrible to think that a foul and murtherous caitiff should disfigure a godlike form like yours, and sever such a head from such a frame! No—no—it cannot—shall not be. I will intercede for you with Edward. I know he loves me, and I think he will yield to my entreaties, and spare your life.”

“He loved me once, too,” said Seymour, bitterly. “But my enemies have turned his heart from me by their calumnies. Whatever his will may be, Edward cannot save me. The lord protector and the council control him, and they are bent, it is plain, on my destruction.”

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189

curiosity: