Now the governor of the prison stood forward, and asked what was to be done with the captives until the witnesses could be brought from Granada. The queen answered that they must remain in his charge, and be well treated, whereon Peter prayed that he might be given a better cell with fewer rats and more light. The queen smiled, and said that it should be so, but added that it would be proper that he should still be kept apart from the lady to whom he was affianced, who could dwell with her father. Then, noting the sadness on their faces, she added:
“Yet I think they may meet daily in the garden of the prison.”
Margaret curtseyed and thanked her, whereon she said very graciously:
“Come here, Señora, and sit by me a little,” and she pointed to a footstool at her side. “When I have done this business I desire a few words with you.”
So Margaret was brought up upon the dais, and sat down at her Majesty’s left hand upon the broidered footstool, and very fair indeed she looked placed thus above the crowd, she whose beauty and whose bearing were so royal; but Castell and Peter were led away back to the prison, though, seeing so many gay lords about, the latter went unwillingly enough. A while later, when the cases were finished, the queen dismissed the court save for certain officers, who stood at a distance, and, turning to Margaret, said:
“Now, fair maiden, tell me your story, as one woman to another, and do not fear that anything you say will be made use of at the trial of your lover, since against you, at any rate at present, no charge is laid. Say, first, are you really the affianced of that tall gentleman, and has he really your heart?”
“All of it, your Majesty,” answered Margaret, “and we have suffered much for each other’s sake.” Then in as few words as she could she told their tale, while the queen listened earnestly.
“A strange story indeed, and if it be all true, a shameful,” she said when Margaret had finished. “But how comes it that if Morella desired to force you into marriage, he is now wed to your companion and cousin? What are you keeping back from me?” and she glanced at her shrewdly.
“Your Majesty,” answered Margaret, “I was ashamed to speak the rest, yet I will trust you and do so, praying your royal forgiveness if you hold that we, who were in desperate straits, have done what is wrong. My cousin, Betty Dene, has paid back Morella in his own false gold. He won her heart and promised to marry her, and at the risk of her own life she took my place at the altar, thereby securing our escape.”
“A brave deed, if a doubtful,” said the queen, “though I question whether such a marriage will be upheld. But that is a matter for the Church to judge of, and I must speak of it no more. Certainly it is hard to be angry with any of you. What did you say that Morella promised you when he asked you to marry him in London?”