Arrived at the door of her bed-chamber, the queen dismissed her
pages and lackeys, and permitted only the maid of honor to cross the
threshold of her chamber with her.
In harmless gossip the pages glided down the corridor and the
staircase. Then came the lackeys who bore the candelabra. They also
left the corridor.
Now all was quiet again. Still John Heywood stood and listened,
firmly resolved to speak to the queen yet that night, even should he
be obliged to wake her from sleep. Only he wanted to wait till the
maid of honor also had left the queen's room.
Now the door opened, and the maid of honor came out. She crossed the
corridor to that side where her own apartments were situated. John
Heywood heard her open the door and then slide the bolt on the
inside.
"Now but a brief time longer, and I will go to the queen," muttered
John Heywood.
He was just going to leave his lurking-place, when he perceived a
noise as if a door were slowly and cautiously opened.
John Heywood cowered again close behind the pillar, and held his
breath to listen.
A bright light fell over the corridor. A dress came rustling nearer
and nearer.
John Heywood gazed astounded and amazed at the figure, which just
brushed past without seeing him.
That figure was Lady Jane Douglas--Lady Jane, who, on account of
indisposition, had retired from the feast in order to betake herself
to rest. Now, when all rested, she watched--when all laid aside
their festive garments, she had adorned herself with the same.
Pages:
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408