On beholding him, the queen rose to her feet, and exclaimed, with almost frenzied anxiety, “Oh! you are come, Sir Thomas. What news do you bring? Has the king’s wrath abated? Is there any hope for me?”
“Alas! madam,” Seymour replied, flying towards her, “it grieves me to the soul to be the bearer of such ill tidings to your Majesty. The king’s fury is as great as ever; he will not hear a word in your defence from Sir John Gage, who is with him now. Your enemies have prevailed against you. The warrant is ordered for your arrest—and if the peril cannot be averted, your august person will be attached, and you will be taken forthwith to the Tower.”
“Then I am wholly lost!” exclaimed Catherine. “Oh! Seymour,” she continued, in a tone of half reproach, “I looked to you for aid—but you offer none.”
“I scarce dare offer such aid as is alone in my power,” cried Seymour, almost fiercely; “yet circumstances almost seem to justify it. Say you would have me prevent it, and this warrant shall never be executed.”
“But how will you prevent it?” demanded the queen, looking at him, as if she would read his inmost soul.
“Ask me not how, madam,” rejoined Sir Thomas. “But say you would have me die for you—and it shall be done.”
These words were uttered with such terrible significance, that Catherine could not fail to comprehend their import.
“This must not be, Seymour!” she exclaimed, laying her hand upon his arm. “You meditate some desperate design. I charge you to forego it.”
“‘T were but to stay the hand of a ruthless tyrant, who is about to shed blood that ought to be dearer to him than his own. Let me go, I beseech you, madam.”
“No; I forbid it—peremptorily forbid it. If the king remains inflexible, I must die. Is there no way to move him?”
“You know his flinty heart as well as I do, madam,” Seymour rejoined, “and that he is inaccessible to all feelings of humanity. But I will seek to move him—though I much fear the result.”
“Plead not for me to your own danger, Seymour. You may draw down the king’s anger on your own head.”
“No matter,” replied Sir Thomas. “I will run any risk. My life will be well lost, if, by losing it, I can profit your Majesty.”
“Oh! if I could obtain speech with the king once more, I should not despair of melting his heart, hard though it be!” said Catherine. “But he will not see me.”
“He has given peremptory orders against your admittance,” rejoined Seymour; “and the guard and henchmen dare not for their lives disobey the mandate. Yet you must see him, and that speedily—but how?—Ha! I have it!” he exclaimed, after a moment’s pause, as if struck with a sudden idea. “What will you say if I bring the king to you?
“That you have wrought a miracle,” replied Catherine. “But I pray you trifle not with me, Seymour.”
“I trifle not, gracious madam,” rejoined Sir Thomas, earnestly. “I have strong hopes of success. But you must second the scheme. I will at once to his majesty, and represent to him that the terrible shock you have sustained has been too much for you, and brought you to the point of death—that you seek forgiveness from him, but as you cannot come to him, you humbly supplicate him to come to you.”
“But he will not come,” cried Catherine, with something of hope in the exclamation.
“I think he will,” said Lady Herbert.
“I am sure he will,” added Seymour. “When he appears, submit yourself entirely to him. I leave the rest to your sagacity. If you have letters about you from Anne Askew, or Joan Bocher, or any prohibited book, give them to me.”
“Here is a letter from the poor martyr, and a book of prayer, blotted with her tears,” replied the queen, giving the articles in question to Seymour, who placed them in the silken bag that hung from his girdle; “keep them for me until some happier day, or keep them in memory of me!”
“Speak not thus, madam, or you will rob me of my courage, and I shall need it all,” rejoined Seymour, kneeling, and pressing the hand she extended to him reverentially to his lips. “At some happier season, when all such storms as this have passed, I may venture to remind you of the service I am about to render.”