"Follow me!" said Henry Howard, calmly; and, without even deigning
the king a single look more, with head proudly erect, he walked to
the door.
Geraldine still lay on the ground--her face turned to the floor. She
stirred not. She seemed to have fallen into a deep swoon.
Only as the door with a sullen sound closed behind Earl Surrey, a
low wail and moan was perceived--such as is wont to struggle forth
at the last hour from the breast of the dying.
The king did not heed it. He still gazed, with eyes stern and
flashing with anger, toward the door through which Earl Surrey had
passed.
"He is unyielding," muttered he. "Not even the rack affrights him;
and in his blasphemous haughtiness he moves along in the midst of
the soldiers, not as a prisoner, but as a commander. Oh, these
Howards are destined to torment me; and even their death will
scarcely be a full satisfaction to me."
"Sire," said Earl Douglas, who had observed the king with a keen,
penetrating eye, and knew that he had now reached the height of his
wrath, at which he shrank from no deed of violence and no cruelty--
"sire, you have sent Earl Surrey to the Tower. But what shall be
done with the queen, who lies there on the floor in a swoon?"
The king roused himself from his reverie; and his bloodshot eyes
were fixed on Geraldine's motionless form with so dark an expression
of hate and rage, that Earl Douglas exultingly said to himself: "The
queen is lost! He will be inexorable!"
"Ah, the queen!" cried Henry, with a savage laugh.
Pages:
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420