The Constable of the Tower

“Give me to drink,” said Catherine, in a faint voice.

Drawing aside the curtains, Lady Tyrwhyt took the goblet and held it to her lips. Ugo could not help looking back, and saw that the poor queen drank with feverish avidity.

“She little recks that acqua tuffania is mingled with her potion,” he muttered. “There will soon be no obstacle to my lord’s marriage with the Princess Elizabeth.”

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Ugo Putting Poison in the Potion

On a small table near the couch stood a silver flagon, evidently containing a potion intended for the queen. On this cup Ugo had for some time fixed his gaze. As he advanced to take the ring bestowed upon him by Catherine, he hastily drew from his doublet a small phial, and poured a few drops from it into the beverage.

Chapter III

HOW THE LORD ADMIRAL BECAME A WIDOWER

Ugo Harrington lost no time on the road, but, on reaching London, found that his lord had suddenly departed for Holt Castle, and at once followed him thither. Owing to these delays, though the utmost expedition was used consistent with the mode of travelling at the time, more than a week elapsed before the admiral arrived at Sudley Castle, and when he did so, the queen was in a very alarming state. Doctor Hewke was wholly unable to account for some of the symptoms she exhibited, and was perplexed to find that his remedies were ineffectual. She appeared to be gradually sinking. No sooner, however, was her husband’s arrival announced, than new life seemed imparted to her, and she sent her physician to entreat him to come to her instantly.

As the admiral entered her chamber, she arose from the chair in which she was seated, and with a cry of delight, which went to the hearts of all those who heard it, threw herself into his arms.

Though love had long since been extinct in Seymour’s breast, it was impossible he could be unmoved by this display of affection, and as he gazed on his consort’s altered lineaments his heart smote him. Catherine, indeed, was woefully changed, and looked the mere shadow of her former self. But there was now a flush in her pale cheek, and an almost unearthly brightness in her eye, that lent a strange beauty to her countenance. She tried to speak, but words failed her, and she sank, sobbing, on her husband’s shoulder.

“Calm yourself, sweetheart, I implore you,” said Seymour. “This agitation will do you harm.”

“Oh! I am so glad you are come!” she cried. “I feared I should never behold you again. I will not reproach you, but you have been long—long—in coming. I have counted the hours since Ugo left. Methinks if you had used despatch you might have been here four days ago.”

“And so I should, sweetheart, had I not unluckily started for Holt before Ugo’s arrival in London. Believe me, I have hurried to you on the wings of love and fear.”

“Heaven be thanked you are not too late!” exclaimed Catherine, in a voice that thrilled through her husband’s frame. “But you must see our babe, Seymour. ‘Tis a pretty flower!”

“Does your Majesty desire me to bring the little cherub here?” asked Lady Tyrwhyt.

“Ay, do” rejoined Catherine. “My lord must see it.”

On this, Lady Tyrwhyt left the room, and shortly after wards returned accompanied by a nurse bearing a large velvet pillow in her arms, on which the infant was laid, very richly attired. As the admiral bent down to gaze upon its tiny features, it opened its eyes and seemed to smile upon him.

“Bless its dear heart!” exclaimed the nurse. “It seems to know your Highness.”

“‘Tis a very pretty infant!” said the admiral. “But I would rather have had a boy.”

“I am sure your Highness has no cause to complain,” said the nurse, sharply. “A sweeter babe was never seen.”

“How shall we name her, Kate?” said the admiral. “After yourself?”

“No, not after me,” she rejoined. “Nor yet after the Princess Elizabeth,” she was about to add. But she checked herself, and a blush overspread her pale features, and betrayed her secret. “Let her be called Mary, ‘Tis a name I love. You will be a fond father to her, Seymour, when I am gone.”