Like
the queen, she wore a dress of gold brocade, trimmed with ermine,
and, like her, a diadem of diamonds adorned Lady Jane's brow.
Now she stood before the queen's door and listened. Then a fierce
sneer flitted across her deathly pale face, and her dark eyes
flashed still more.
"She sleeps," muttered she. "Only sleep, queen--sleep till we shall
come to wake you! Sleep, so that I can wake for you."
She raised her arm threateningly toward the door, and wildly shook
her head. Her long black ringlets encircled and danced around her
sullen brow like the snakes of the furies; and pale and colorless,
and with demon-like beauty, she resembled altogether the goddess of
vengeance, in scornful triumph preparing to tread her victim beneath
her feet.
With a low laugh she now glided adown the corridor, but not to that
staircase yonder, but farther down to the end, where on the wall
hung a life-size picture of Henry the Sixth. She pressed on a
spring; the picture flew open, and through the door concealed behind
it Lady Jane left the corridor.
"She is going to the green-room to a meeting with Henry Howard!"
whispered John Heywood, who now stepped forth from behind the
pillar. "Oh, now I comprehend it all; now the whole of this devilish
plot is clear to me; Lady Jane is Earl Surrey's lady-love, and they
want to make the king believe that it is the queen. Doubtless this
Surrey is with them in the conspiracy, and perhaps he will call Jane
Douglas by the name of the queen.
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