The Queen read and reread the letter through, from first to last. At length she seemed to realize the terrible meaning of it all. "Oh! that accursed, hump-back knave, to dare to lift his hand against those which guard and protect the King! No peace shall I now have. He will not stop with Rivers. I shall be the next to feel his tyranny. But I will match him yet!" she cried.
"Send for my son, the Marquis of Dorset," said she, as her eyes flashed and her face became as though carved from marble.
When Dorset arrived, and heard from his mother what had happened to his uncle and his brother, he showed his anger less; but in his cold grey eyes, and firm cut mouth, one might read even greater determination than his mother possessed together with all her quickness of perception.
"Methinks, mother," said he at length, "that thou hadst best leave the Palace, and take refuge in the Sanctuary yonder. Take with thee my dear sisters and our little Prince. Whilst he is not in the power of the boar young Edward shall be safe."
"You counsel well, my son," replied the Queen. "Let us then make haste, and be in safety ere the traitorous cur arrives. Girls, ye must accompany us. Go and make ready, with all expediency, for in haste alone now lies our safety." This latter she addressed to Hazel and Mary, who had remained in the room whilst these things were taking place.
"Oh, Richard," said the Queen, as though he were there before her, "thou shalt suffer for this act of thine! Thou thinkest that by taking from the King the only man in England capable of training his gentle mind in the properest course thou shalt be able to infuse thy murderous thoughts into this helpless innocent, and so use him to thy profit. The curse of poor old Margaret is now falling upon me, and her prophecy is coming true. But yet," she added, as though to herself, "she cursed him also. Oh, why hath not her curses first fallen upon him; I never did her wrong. Ah, yes, this is my punishment for having caused poor Clarence's death. Would to God it had been this limping dog that I had asked for, dead. Then all should have been well. Clarence was gentle, and never did me harm. 'Tis indeed God's curse for my climbing to great heights upon the necks of others that has now fallen upon my head, and bent it low. Where I have stepped on others, now others step on me. It is just, oh Lord, it is just. But oh! merciful Father," cried she, as her spirit began to give way, "let all thy wrath fall upon me; for I am the guilty one. Let not the jealousy of Richard bring harm unto others than me. I am to blame, and I alone should suffer." As she finished this speech she stood erect, her face turned heavenward, and her arms upraised in entreaty. As she stood thus her noble form lost none of that queenly dignity which must ever have marked her as a Queen among women.
"I am to blame, and I alone should suffer."
"Come, come, mother, thou must not give way thus. Gloucester would rejoice indeed, if he knew that he had so affected thee," said Dorset, as he advanced and put his arm around his mother's neck, and patted her tenderly upon the shoulder. "Besides," he continued, gently, as he led her to the window, "we are losing valuable time. We know not when Gloucester may arrive; and when he does, it is then too late for thee to leave the Palace."