The carriage rolled up; the door was opened.
Two men wrapped in black mantles sat by the coachman; two others
stood behind as footmen, while a fifth was by the open door of the
carriage.
The duke first noticed him as his foot had already touched the step
of the carriage.
"This is not my equipage! These are not my people!" said he; and he
tried to step back. But the pretended servant forced him violently
into the carriage and shut the door. "Forward!" ordered he. The
carriage rolled on. A moment still, John Heywood saw the duke's pale
face appear at the open carriage window, and it seemed to him as
though he were stretching out his arms, calling for help--then the
carriage disappeared in the night. "Poor duke!" murmured John
Heywood. "The gates of the Tower are heavy, and your arm will not be
strong enough to open them again, when they have once closed behind
you. But it avails nothing to think more about him now. The queen is
also in danger. Away, then, to the queen!"
With fleet foot John Heywood hastened back into the castle. Through
passages and corridors he slipped hurriedly along.
Now he stood in the corridor which led to the apartments of the
queen.
"I will constitute her guard to-night," muttered John Heywood, as he
hid himself in one of the niches in the corridor. "The fool by his
prayers will keep far from the door of his saint the tricks of the
devil, and protect her from the snares which the pious Bishop
Gardiner and the crafty courtier Douglas want to lay for her feet.
Pages:
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406