It was not till now that Adam’s simple mind comprehended the true cause of Anne’s alarm, which Sibyll still conjectured not, but stood trembling by her friend’s side, and close to her father.
“Do not fear, maiden;” said Adam Warner, laying his hand upon the loosened locks that swept over his bosom, “for though I am old and feeble, God and his angels are in every spot where virtue trembles and resists. My lord king, thy sceptre extends not over a human soul!”
“Dotard, prate not to me!” said Edward, laying his hand on his dagger. Sibyll saw the movement, and instinctively placed herself between her father and the king. That slight form, those pure, steadfast eyes, those features, noble at once and delicate, recalled to Edward the awe which had seized him in his first dark design; and again that awe came over him. He retreated.
“I mean harm to none,” said he, almost submissively; “and if I am so unhappy as to scare with my presence the Lady Anne, I will retire, praying you, donzell, to see to her state, and lead her back to her chamber when it so pleases herself. Saying this much, I command you, old man, and you, maiden, to stand back while I but address one sentence to the Lady Anne.”
With these words he gently advanced to Anne, and took her hand; but, snatching it from him, the poor lady broke from Adam, rushed to the casement, opened it, and seeing some figures indistinct and distant in the court below, she called out in a voice of such sharp agony that it struck remorse and even terror into Edward’s soul.
“Alas!” he muttered, “she will not listen to me! her mind is distraught! What frenzy has been mine! Pardon—pardon, Anne,—oh, pardon!”
Adam Warner laid his hand on the king’s arm, and he drew the imperious despot away as easily as a nurse leads a docile child.
“King!” said the brave old man, “may God pardon thee; for if the last evil hath been wrought upon this noble lady, David sinned not more heavily than thou.”
“She is pure, inviolate,—I swear it!” said the king, humbly. “Anne, only say that I am forgiven.”
But Anne spoke not: her eyes were fixed, her lips had fallen; she was insensible as a corpse,—dumb and frozen with her ineffable dread. Suddenly steps were heard upon the stairs; the door opened, and Marmaduke Nevile entered abruptly.