"Weep not; but consider what is to be done. Each minute,
and the danger increases; each minute brings the evil nearer to us."
"You are right," said Catharine, as she again raised her head, and
shook the tears from her eyes. "Yes, you are right; it is not time
to weep and wail. Death is creeping upon me; but I--I will not die.
I live still; and so long as there is a breath in me I will fight
against death. God will assist me; God will help me to overcome this
danger also, as I have already done so many others."
"But what will you do? where can you begin? You know not the
accusation. You know not who accuses you, nor with what you are
charged."
"Yet I suspect it!" said the queen, musingly. "When I now recall to
mind the king's angry countenance, and the malicious smile of that
malignant priest, I believe I know the accusation. Yes--everything
is now clear to me. Ah, it is the heretic that they would sentence
to death. Well, now, my lord bishop, I still live; and--we will see
which of us two will gain the victory!"
With proud step and glowing cheeks she hurried to the door.
Elizabeth held her hack. "Whither are you going?" cried she, in
astonishment.
"To the king!" said she, with a proud smile. "He has heard the
bishop; now he shall hear me also. The king's disposition is fickle
and easily changed. We will now see which cunning is the stronger--
the cunning of the priest or the cunning of the woman. Elizabeth,
pray for me.
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