“The situation must have been the reverse of pleasant. And you failed in reconciling yourself with either of the fair ones, eh, monsignore?”
“Failed utterly, Ugo. The princess is certainly lost; and I fear the queen also.”
“Per dio! that is unlucky. You will remember I had misgivings when your lordship embarked on this adventure.”
“Would I had followed thy counsel, Ugo, and remained constant to Catherine. But I was enslaved by the charms of the bewitching Elizabeth, whom even now that she scorns me I adore.”
“You say she is lost?”
“Alas! yes, Ugo—irrecoverably lost.”
“In that case, think of her no more, but turn your thoughts wholly on the queen—that is, if you have any hope of retrieving your position with her majesty.”
“I do not entirely despair of a reconciliation, Ugo. But it will be difficult to effect.”
“Via, via, monsignore. Every great object is difficult of attainment. You have often told me your ruling passion is ambition. But you appear to have misjudged yourself.”
“I told thee the truth,” cried Seymour, springing from the couch. “Ambition is my ruling passion, and all others must bow to it. Henceforth, I shall think only of my advancement. Hark thee, Ugo, thou knowest something of my projects, but thou shalt know more, for I can trust thee.” The esquire bowed and smiled. “I owe the lord protector little brotherly love, for he has ever shown himself my enemy. For years he has striven to keep me down, but unsuccessfully, for I have risen in spite of him. Had my sister, Queen Jane, lived, I should have mounted rapidly, for she preferred me to her elder brother; but when I lost her, I lost much of Henry’s favor. And why?—because my brother Edward feared I should supplant him. Thus, when Henry would have ennobled me and enriched me, as he had ennobled and enriched Edward, I was passed by as of no account. Can I forget such treatment? Never!”
“I marvel not at your resentment, monsignore.”
“Neither wilt thou marvel at the reprisals I mean to take for the wrong I have endured. Hertford’s jealousy pursued me to the last with the king. He could not prevent certain marks of favor being bestowed upon me, nor altogether check the liking Henry had for me, and which manifested itself in various ways, but he so misrepresented me, that I never obtained the king’s confidence—neither would his majesty confer any important trust upon me. Many posts for which I was specially fitted became vacant while Hertford was at the head of affairs, but his malignant influence was ever at work with the king, and I was overlooked. By my brother’s arts, and his alone, I was excluded from the list of Henry’s executors, and degraded to the lower council, though my rightful place was with the upper. But this last injustice would have been redressed had Henry lived a short space longer. Sir John Gage and myself were kept from the dying king’s presence till he could no longer cause his behests to be obeyed. Something strange there was in the signing of the will, Ugo, that inclines me to suspect all was not right; and Sir John is of my opinion, though he keeps a close tongue about the matter. In my belief the king was dead, or dying, when the will was stamped—for stamped it was, not signed.”
“If such were the case, monsignore, the perpetrators of the fraud shall scarce escape the punishment due to their offence.”
“Neither in this world nor the next shall they escape it,” rejoined Seymour, sternly. “What Henry’s intentions were I know from Sir John Gage—how they were frustrated is best known to my brother. But not only has Hertford made me no reparation for the great wrong done me by him, but his jealousy has latterly increased to positive hate. My influence, he feels, is greater with our royal nephew than his own. Therefore he fears me, and would remove me altogether if he could. Luckily, that is not in his power. I am too strong for him now,” he added, with a bitter smile, “and he will find it difficult to crush me, or even keep me down much longer. He thinks to appease me by making me Baron Seymour of Sudley, and High Admiral of England. That is something, and I shall refuse neither the title nor the post. But they will not content me. Hertford would have all power and greatness concenter in himself, and leave little save the skirts to me. He hath made himself lord protector and governor of the king’s person—the latter office should be mine—would be mine now, if the king had his way—shall be mine hereafter!”