Windsor Castle by William Harrison Ainsworth (read along books TXT) đź“•
Read free book «Windsor Castle by William Harrison Ainsworth (read along books TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: William Harrison Ainsworth
Read book online «Windsor Castle by William Harrison Ainsworth (read along books TXT) 📕». Author - William Harrison Ainsworth
“Do not indulge in these transports, Norris,” said Anne mournfully. “Your passion will only lead to your destruction—perchance to mine. Let the certainty that I do love, content you, and seek not to tempt your fate further.”
“Oh, madam! you make me the happiest of men by the avowal,” he cried. “I envy not now the king, for I feel raised above him by your love.”
“You must join the revel, Norris,” said Anne; “your absence from it will be observed.”
And extending her hand to him, he knelt down and pressed it passionately to his lips.
“Ah! we are observed,” she cried suddenly, and almost with a shriek. “Rise, sir!”
Norris instantly sprang to his feet, and, to his inexpressible dismay, saw the figure of a tall monk gliding away. Throwing a meaning look at the almost sinking queen, he followed the mysterious observer into the great hall, determined to rid himself of him in some way before he should have time to make any revelations.
Avoiding the brilliant throng, the monk entered the adjoining corridor, and descending the great staircase, passed into the upper quadrangle. From thence he proceeded towards the cloisters near St. George's Chapel, where he was overtaken by Norris, who had followed him closely.
“What would you with me, Sir Henry Norris?” cried the monk, halting.
“You may guess,” said Norris, sternly and drawing his sword. “There are secrets which are dangerous to the possessor. Unless you swear never to betray what you have seen and heard, you die.”
The tall monk laughed derisively.
“You know that your life is in my power,” he said, “and therefore you threaten mine. Well, e'en take it, if you can.”
As he spoke, he drew a sword from beneath his robe, and stood upon his defence. After a few passes, Norris's weapon was beaten from his grasp.
“You are now completely at my mercy,” said the monk, “and I have nothing to do but to call the guard, and declare all I have heard to the king.”
“I would rather you plunged your sword into my heart,” said Norris.
“There is one way—and only one—by which my secrecy may be purchased,” said the monk.
“Name it,” replied Norris. “Were it to be purchased by my soul's perdition, I would embrace it.”
“You have hit the point exactly,” rejoined the monk drily. “Can you not guess with whom you have to deal?”
“Partly,” replied Norris “I never found such force in mortal arm as you have displayed.”
“Probably not,” laughed the other: “most of those who have ventured against me have found their match. But come with me into the park, and you shall learn the condition of my secrecy.”
“I cannot quit the castle,” replied Norris; “but I will take you to my lodgings, where we shall be wholly unobserved.”
And crossing the lower ward, they proceeded to the tower on the south side of it, now appropriated to the governor of the alms knights.
About an hour after this Norris returned to the revel. His whole demeanour was altered, and his looks ghastly. He sought the queen, who had returned to the seat in the embrasure.
“What has happened?” said Anne, in a low tone, as he approached her. “Have you killed him?”
“No,” he replied; “but I have purchased our safety at a terrible price.”
“You alarm me, Norris; what mean you?” she cried. “I mean this,” he answered, regarding her with passionate earnestness: “that you must love me now, for I have perilled my salvation for you. That tall monk was Herne the Hunter.”
IV. Of the Secret Interview between Norris and Anne Boleyn, and of the Dissimulation practised by the King.
Henry's attentions to Jane Seymour at the masqued fete were so marked, that the whole court was made aware of his passion. But it was not anticipated that any serious and extraordinary consequences would result from the intoxication—far less that the queen herself would be removed to make way for her successful rival. It was afterwards, however, remembered that at this time Henry held frequent, long, and grave conferences with the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, and appeared to be engrossed in the meditation of some project.
After the scene at the revel, Anne did not make another exhibition of jealousy; but it was not that she was reconciled to her situation, or in any way free from uneasiness. On the contrary, the unhappy Catherine of Arragon did not suffer more in secret; but she knew, from experience, that with her royal consort all reproaches would be unavailing.
One morning, when she was alone within her chamber, her father, who was now Earl of Wiltshire, obtained admittance to her.
“You have a troubled look, my dear lord,” she said, as she motioned him to a seat.
“And with good reason,” he replied. “Oh, Anne! words cannot express my anxiety at the present state of things.”
“It will speedily pass by, my lord,” she replied; “the king will soon be tired of his new idol.”
“Not before he has overthrown the old one, I fear,” rejoined the earl. “Jane Seymour's charms have usurped entire sovereignty over him. With all her air of ingenuousness and simplicity, the minion is artful and dangerous She has a high mark, I am persuaded—no less than the throne.”
“But Henry cannot wed her—he cannot divorce me,” said Anne.
“So thought Catherine of Arragon,” replied her father; “and yet she was divorced. Anne, I am convinced a plot is hatching against you.”
“You do not fear for my life, father?” she cried, trembling.
“I trust there are no grounds for charges against you by which it might be brought in jeopardy,” replied the earl gravely.
“None, father—none!” she exclaimed.
“I am glad of it,” rejoined the earl; “for I have heard that the king said to one who suggested another divorce to him, 'No, if the queen comes within the scope of the divorce, she also comes within the pale of the scaffold.'”
“A pledge was extorted from him to that effect,” said Anne, in a hollow voice.
“That an attempt will be made against you, I firmly believe,” replied the earl; “but if you are wholly innocent you have nothing to fear.”
“Oh, father! I know not that,” cried Anne. “Innocence avails little with the stony-hearted Henry.”
Comments (0)