“Well, then,” cried Gardiner with an uneasy, dismal smile, “we will show him that he has called us by the right name; we will rend him in pieces!”
“Besides, as we have said, the Howards stand in the way of our schemes in relation to the queen,” said Earl Douglas, earnestly. “The king’s mind is so completely filled with this one hatred and this one jealousy, that there is no room in it for any other feeling, for any other hate. It is true he signs often enough these death-warrants which we lay before him; but he does it, as the lion, with utter carelessness and without anger, crushes the little mouse that is by chance under his paws. But if the lion is to rend in pieces his equal, he must beforehand be put into a rage. When he is raging, then you must let him have his prey. The Howards shall be his first prey. But, then, we must exert ourselves, that when the lion again shakes his mane his wrath may fall upon Catharine Parr and the Seymours.”
“The Lord our God will be with us, and enlighten us, that we may find the right means to strike His enemies a sure blow!” exclaimed Gardiner, devoutly folding his hands.
“I believe the right means are already found,” said Earl Douglas, with a smile; “and even before this day descends to its close, the gates of the Tower will open to receive this haughty and soft-hearted Duke of Norfolk and this apostate Earl Surrey. Perchance we may even succeed in striking at one blow the queen together with the Howards. See! an equipage stops before the grand entrance, and I see the Duchess of Norfolk and her daughter, the Duchess of Richmond, getting out of the carriage. Only see! they are making signs to us. I have promised to conduct these two noble and pious ladies to the king, and I shall do so. Whilst we are there, pray for us, your highness, that our words, like well-aimed arrows, may strike the king’s heart, and then rebound upon the queen and the Seymours!”
CHAPTER XXIX. THE ACCUSATION.
In vain had the king hoped to master his pains, or at least to forget them, while he tried to sleep. Sleep had fled from the king’s couch; and as he now sat in his rolling-chair, sad, weary, and harassed with pain, he thought, with gloomy spite, that the Duke of Norfolk told him but yesterday that sleep was a thing under his control, and he could summon it to him whenever it seemed good to him. This thought made him raving with anger; and grinding his teeth, he muttered: “He can sleep; and I, his lord and king—I am a beggar that in vain whines to God above for a little sleep, a little forgetfulness of his pains! But it is this traitorous Norfolk that prevents me from sleeping. Thoughts of him keep me awake and restless. And I cannot crush this traitor with these hands of mine; I am a king, and yet so powerless and weak, that I can find no means of accusing this traitor, and convicting him of his sinful and blasphemous deeds. Oh, where may I find him—that true friend, that devoted servant, who ventures to understand my unuttered thoughts, and fulfil the wishes to which I dare not give a name?”
Just as he was thus thinking, the door behind him opened and in walked Earl Douglas. His countenance was proud and triumphant, and so wild a joy gleamed from his eyes that even the king was surprised at it.
“Oh,” said he, peevishly, “you call yourself my friend; and you are cheerful, Douglas, while your king is a poor prisoner whom the gout has chained with brazen bands to this chair.”
“You will recover, my king, and go forth from this imprisonment as the conqueror, dazzling and bright, that by his appearance under God’s blessing treads all his enemies in the dust—that triumphs over all those who are against him, and would betray their king!”