The Constable of the Tower by W. Harrison Ainsworth

The youthful Lady Jane Grey occupied a seat at the royal board next to her father, and not so far removed from Edward but that he was able, occasionally, to exchange a word with her. Jane ate as little as the abstemious young monarch himself, a point of resemblance between them not unnoticed by Seymour, who called the queen-dowager’s attention to the circumstance. Catherine appeared greatly pleased with the young maiden, and, when the repast was ended, called her to her, bidding her come with her to her private apartments, and adding graciously that she had heard much of her, and desired to know her better. The invitation was equally agreeable to Jane and to the Marquis of Dorset, though the latter fancied he could tell by whom it had been prompted.

As the king was quitting the banqueting chamber with the lord protector, he expressed a desire that his sister Elizabeth should be sent for to the Tower; and furthermore that his two preceptors, Sir John Cheke and Doctor Cox, should accompany the princess. Though the request did not seem to be relished by his uncle, he made no objections to it; and Sir Thomas Seymour, who was evidently delighted by the notion, volunteered to go to Hertford for the princess. This proposal, however, was peremptorily rejected by the lord protector, but he at length agreed that his brother’s esquire, Ugo Harrington, should be despatched on the errand with a sufficient escort.

“I will go seek Ugo,” cried Seymour, as soon as his brother’s consent had been obtained, “and despatch him at once to Hertford.”

A grateful look from his royal nephew thanked him for his zeal.

But his haste to depart seemed to surprise and displease the queen-dowager, for she called out to him somewhat sharply, “Whither so fast, Sir Thomas? Methinks I have not yet dismissed you, and I counted upon your attendance for some little while longer.”

“I pray you have me excused, gracious madam,” he replied, in a deeply deferential tone. “I have his majesty’s commands to send off an escort to bring the Princess Elizabeth from Hertford. As soon as I have executed my commission I will return.”

“Is Elizabeth coming to the Tower?” inquired Catherine, with a look of annoyance.

“Ay, madam,” answered Edward. “The lord protector has kindly yielded to my desire to have my sister near me.”

“I do not altogether approve of her highness’s coming,” observed Hertford; “but I cannot say ‘nay’ to your Majesty.”

While this was going on, Seymour made a profound reverence to the king, bowed with equal respect to Catherine—contriving at the same time to direct a very devoted glance towards her—and departed.

Making his way as quickly as he could through the crowd of gentlemen ushers, henchmen, grooms of the chamber, yeomen of the guard, and others that beset the corridors and passages which he traversed, he at last reached the apartments assigned to him in the Wardtobe Tower; a structure at that time connected with a portion of the palace known as the “King’s Lodgings.” On entering a circular stone chamber, garnished with arras, and so richly furnished that its original dungeon-like look was completely changed, Seymour found the person of whom he was in quest seated beside a table, on which a flask of wine and a silver goblet were placed. He was singing an Italian canzonet with much taste and execution, his voice being a very fine tenor, and accompanying himself on a cittern. On seeing his patron, he instantly discontinued his song, laid down the instrument, and arose.

Tall and gallant-looking, Ugo Harrington might have been considered very handsome, had not a sinister expression detracted materially from his good looks. His age was somewhat under thirty. His frame was slight but very muscular, his complexion olive, his eyes dark and quick, his teeth beautifully even and white, and in strong contrast with his short, silky, raven-black moustaches and beard. His looks were more those of an Italian than an Englishman; and indeed his mother was a Florentine, while he himself had passed most of his youth in the Tuscan capital and Rome. He was richly attired in a doublet of russet velvet, with hose to match, and a furred velvet mantle was lying beside him, ready to be put on when he went forth. On the mantle were laid a long rapier and a poniard, both forming part of the gallant esquire’s ordinary equipments.