"Indeed, I seek no explanation," said Agnes Herbert, laying her hand gently on his arm; "I have seen much of you; I know you, I think, Algernon, to the heart. My trust in your honour and your honesty is unbounded; and nothing shall ever make me believe that you are in the wrong, though you may be unfortunate. I am contented with this conviction, and ask no more."
"Nevertheless," answered Algernon Grey, pressing his lips again and again upon her hand, "if I live, I will tell you all, whatever be the result. But there is one thing you must promise me, dear Agnes, if you have in me that confidence you say."
"I have, I have," she answered eagerly; "and I will do anything that is right to prove it to you. Only say what it is you would have."
Her lover held her by the hand, and gazed into her eyes with a look of deep and tender interest, mournfully, yet not without happiness; for there is a bright consolation in mutual trust, which lights up the darkest hour of life with a gleam like the sunshine on a cloud. "What I would have you to do, is this, dear Agnes," he said: "the event of the battle is, of course, doubtful, and the consequences may be such as I dread to think of. The army, or a part of it, may be driven to retreat into Prague, there to be besieged by a superior force. What will follow then it is difficult to foresee. The town, at all events, will be in a state of turbulence and misrule. It may have to capitulate; it may even be taken by assault; but you must promise that, if I survive the battle, which I somehow have a presentiment will be the case, you will trust in me entirely, as if I were a brother; that you will follow my counsels, be ready to answer to my call at any moment, when I judge your escape practicable. I ask you to trust in me fully, totally, and entirely; and, on my word of honour as a man, a gentleman, and a Christian, I assure you, you may do so without any doubt or hesitation, whatever be the circumstances into which your compliance may throw us towards each other. In the hour of peril and of difficulty, Agnes--my duty done as a soldier--my only thought will be of you."
"I will, Algernon, I will," answered Agnes Herbert. "Under such circumstances our poor Princess will have enough to think of and to do, without caring for me; and I will not only trust to you, but will show you how I trust, by seeking your counsel, your aid, or your protection, whenever I find it needful.--But yet do not suppose that I shall give way weakly to fear. What you say certainly alarms me. I know that such views of imminent peril are not entertained here; and this is the first time that I have heard it clearly stated that danger is at the doors. It takes me, therefore, by surprise; but yet it does not terrify me as much as might be expected. I have a confidence that cannot be shaken; a rock of trust, whose foundations are sure; and, although I speak not about such things as much as many in this court, yet my reliance on the mercy and goodness of God keeps me calm even now, and will, I trust, do so should the evils fall on me that we anticipate. I am not so light and thoughtless as people have believed--perhaps, as I have believed myself; for I feel my courage rise against what some time ago I should have thought would overwhelm me. I can endure, if I cannot resist; and I feel full confidence that help will come when it is needed; that resolution will not fail; and that, if I have to depend upon you for support and guidance, no vain terrors, on my part, will shackle your energies, no weak hesitation or delay impede your actions, or frustrate your views."
"Noble--noble girl," cried Algernon Grey, pressing her hand in his; "methinks, with you by my side, I could dare and defy a world."
As he spoke, the same door by which Agnes had entered opened again, and a woman appeared, in the dress of a superior servant. She addressed herself to Agnes at once, saying, "Her Majesty sent me, Madam, to tell you that she is ready now to receive the gentleman you mentioned."
"Come, then," said Agnes, turning to Algernon Grey, "I will show you the way;" and, leading him through the same door, she passed a little ante-chamber, and then mounted a flight often narrow steps, which conducted to a small room with a door half open, entering into a larger one. All was perfectly still, but a bright light came from the inner chamber; and, making Algernon Grey a sign to stay there for a moment, Agnes advanced and went in. The next instant she appeared at the door again, beckoning him to come forward, and three steps brought him into a large room, containing a bed beneath a canopy of crimson and gold, with various other articles of rich furniture, on which the arms of Bohemia were frequently emblazoned. A large fire was burning on the wide hearth, and a single lamp on a table shed a faint light through the chamber, showing a large velvet chair before the chimney, with the form of Elizabeth of Bohemia seated therein, wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of satin trimmed with fur.
Algernon Grey advanced to the side of the young Queen, behind whose seat two German women were standing; and, bowing the head reverently, he took the hand she extended towards him, and bent his head over it.
A few moments passed in the ceremonious courtesies of the day, Elizabeth asking news of his health, and how he had fared in the camp, and the young Englishman answering with many professions of devotion to her cause and person. But then began the more difficult, but more important portion of their conversation, the Queen breaking off at length somewhat abruptly, as if impatient curiosity mastered her, and inquiring, "Well, what message has our our good cousin, Prince Christian of Anhalt, sent us, my lord?--something of importance, doubtless, or he would have chosen another hour and a less distinguished messenger!"