"Not quite that," rejoined Blount; "a strict search, that is all. But here comes the favourite's favourite! I hear the King's door go. Let us treat him with all due respect."
The moment after, Sir Thomas Overbury passed through the ante-chamber, with a slow step and a gloomy brow. The four gentlemen drew back, two on either side, and made him a low and formal bow as he went. Overbury, knowing that they were mocking him, merely inclined his head and walked on; but the instant he was gone, the four burst into a loud laugh, and began to comment upon his character without much mercy.
In the meanwhile the Knight proceeded through the adjoining passage, little caring what they said or thought, occupied with far more unpleasant reflections. He descended a back staircase of the palace, took one or two turns up and down in the open air of the nearest court, and several times put his hand to his brow, as if it ached.
"If Arabella," he muttered to himself, "be but as infatuated with him as the King, the matter may still go forward; but it will need infatuation indeed to keep up his favour with either of them. The man has gone mad, that is clear. I have often heard of the power of a bad woman, but never knew it went to such an extent. Heaven and earth, what a world this is!--I will go sail upon the Thames, and see whether the cool air will take the fire out of my brain; the sun is just down, and the moon will soon be up. I like the moonlight on the water; it puts me in mind of my father's house.--I often wish I were a boy again, and in my quiet home. Not all the glitter of courtly life, nor the joy of successful ambition, is worth one hour of holiday boyhood's pure, unalloyed happiness after all."
As he thus thought, he bent his steps towards the river, and at the little stairs below those of the palace called a boat, which soon bore him down the stream towards Woolwich. He felt refreshed and calmed, and went sailing slowly on for near an hour. At the end of that time, he told the boatmen to turn; and the wind being now against them, and the tide in their favour, they pulled down the sail and took to their oars.
The moon had by this time risen, nearly at the full, and was pouring a flood of light over all things, tranquil and soft, like that which seems to shine from another sphere upon a spirit weaned from this earth's affections. The objects of the world around were all distinct and clear to the eye, though without the warmth and brightness of the day; and as the boat approached the stairs, another shot past it, rowed by two stout watermen, with a gentleman sitting in the stern, wrapped in a large cloak, and having his hat flapped over his eyes. There was something in the figure, however, which caught the attention of Sir Thomas Overbury, and he bade his rowers ply their oars. The other gentleman reached the landing first, and had just stepped on shore, when the knight's boat glided up; and he himself, resolving to see who the stranger was, sprang up the steps, exclaiming, "My Lord, my Lord, I would fain speak with you."
"You are mistaken, sir," replied a voice, in what he thought an assumed tone; and the other gentleman walked on at a rapid pace.
Sir Thomas was about to follow as quickly; but one of the boatmen caught him by the sleeve, demanding his fare. The Knight paid him immediately, and then walked forward as fast as possible upon the only road that led to the palace; but some minutes were lost, and by this time the stranger had disappeared, apparently through the great gates, into the outer court.
Overbury hurried on, and thought he caught a glimpse of the other's cloak turning the corner, towards that part of the building which, for some reason, was called the Ladies' lodging. In each floor of that mass of brick-work were several suites of apartments, occupied by different ladies of the Court, and amongst others, the Lady Arabella Stuart. Below ran a low arcade, with a number of different doors, and staircases, and passages through the building, like those which are still to be seen at Hampton Court; and, as Overbury passed through the little archway leading from the outer court, he distinctly saw the figure of the stranger moving quickly along under the arcade.
It seemed to pause at the entrance of the staircase, which led first to a suite of apartments occupied by Lady Walsingham, and then to those of Arabella Stuart and the Countess of Shrewsbury, the latter of whom had accepted the royal invitation for a week, on the occasion of the festival of the preceding night. Overbury thought that the person he pursued entered that doorway, which, as was then customary, stood open. At all events, he did not see the figure proceed any farther; and exclaiming, "Ha!" he advanced at once, entered the doorway, mounted the stairs, and knocked at the door of the Lady Arabella's chamber. It was opened almost immediately by Ida Mara, with a light.