"That this dear girl should fly with me," replied her lover; "that is the plain truth, Countess. I care not much to what country we go, provided it be one that will keep us free, for a time, from the persecution of the King, so long as his anger lasts."
"I thought so," said Lady Shrewsbury; "and I suppose that must be the event. But I cannot consent, Seymour, to let her go without being first your wife."
"But how can that be accomplished, dear lady?" asked William Seymour. "You know, if we were to apply to any of the bishops, they would carry the tidings forthwith to the King; and if we have the banns published, the fact will be soon all over the Court. We can be married the moment we are across the Channel."
"No, no," answered the Countess, in her usual decided tone; "she goes with you as your wife, or not at all. Do not suppose I think you would wrong her, Seymour; for I am sure you would lose your own life first; but if diamonds are valuable because they are rare--I am sure, so in these days is a good name; and she must not lose hers--no, not for love itself. Nor is the matter difficult, as I shall manage it. We have got a parson here who, though he looks upon us all as what he calls Papists, is my very humble and good servant; and would be a Catholic too, if it was not for fear of losing his living, God wot. Thanks be to heaven, he mumbles like an old woman chewing a crust; and I never yet could discover the person who, when he publishes what he calls the bands of matrimony, could find out who were the people he was going to tie in them. Thus, then, I will have it. You shall stay here three nights, and speed away again on the third morning. You shall show yourself at the Court, and in other places; and after the third Sunday you shall come down hither, where, in this quiet little church, perched up amongst the woods, without a house but the parson's for a mile round, you may take each other for better for worse, without any one knowing aught about it. In the meantime, Seymour, you make all your preparations for departure. Have your ship ready, and your money prepared. My Lord of Hertford will not love you the less for marrying secretly a lady of the Blood Royal; and he is never unwilling to open his purse, for any generous purpose. Shrewsbury and I will give you some help, such as it is, though the times are hard ones; and as, doubtless, the little that our poor Arabella has will be lost for love of you, it must be made up by your love for her. Let there be no writing, in the meantime, till you come again; for we know well enough there are spies abroad."
Seymour kissed the Countess's hand, with many thanks, acknowledging that her plan was the wisest and the best. "But, dear lady," he added, "I almost fear that, if this takes place in your house, it may draw upon you and my good Lord of Shrewsbury the indignation of the King."
"Good faith," answered the Countess, "his Majesty had better not meddle with me. 'Tis such poor timid things as this that he can intimidate and overawe. But, even if he should try, I have a hold upon him which will keep him silent--at least, I think so. 'Tis not many months ago that he said to me, when the marriage proposed with the Duke of Gueldres was refused, that Arabella might choose one of his own subjects if she liked; he consented to it freely."
Arabella started up, and gazed upon her aunt with doubt and surprise. "Oh, why did you not tell me?" she exclaimed.
"Because I did not think fit, poor bird," replied the Countess; "and something more.--I assured the King that you had no thought of marriage then--that you were indisposed to give your hand to any but a man of princely birth.--I knew right well," she added, abruptly, "that he was wishing to tie you to his minion, Carr, and I was resolved to shield you from such degradation. In wedding this youth here, you wed one of princely birth; for in his veins is flowing the blood of our Seventh Harry; and though you, sweet maid, may be nearest akin to this present King, I am not sure that he is not nearest to the throne of England. But so it is, Bella, the King did give this consent; and I see not why we may not use it now as well as then."
"Oh, this is indeed joyful!" exclaimed Arabella; "he cannot--he dare not treat us ill after this."
"Trust him not, trust him not," replied the Countess; "his word is as unstable as a quicksand; and, if you think to rest upon it, you will be swallowed up alive. The course I have laid before you, is the only one you can pursue; though this consent that he has given may perhaps shame him into moderation, and enable you to return sooner to your native land. Now I shall leave you together, pretty birds, in your cage, to talk over your plans; and then you shall sing your uncle a song, if you have any voice left. While you are here, Seymour, we must keep you somewhat close. Our woods, and parks, and fields, may give you space enough; but you must avoid the towns and villages, lest our secret be carried to the court."