“Then let us go,” exclaimed the king, with a sigh. “Yes once again, good-night, Kate! Nay, do not accompany me! I will leave the hall quite unobserved; and I shall be pleased, if my guests will still prolong the fair feast till morning. All of you remain here! No one but Douglas accompanies me.”
“And your brother, the fool!” said John Heywood, who long before had come out of his hiding-place and was now standing by the king. “Yes, come, brother Henry; let us quit this feast. It is not becoming for wise men of our sort to grant our presence still longer to the feast of fools. Come to your couch, king, and I will lull your ear to sleep with the sayings of my wisdom, and enliven your soul with the manna of my learning.”
While John Heywood thus spoke, it did not escape him that the features of the earl suddenly clouded and a dark frown settled on his brow.
“Spare your wisdom for to-day, John,” said the king; “for you would indeed be preaching only to deaf ears. I am tired, and I require not your erudition, but sleep. Good-night, John.”
The king left the hall, leaning on Earl Douglas’s arm.
“Earl Douglas does not wish me to accompany the king,” whispered John Heywood. “He is afraid the king might blab out to me a little of that diabolical work which they will commence at midnight. Well, I call the devil, as well as the king, my brother, and with his help I too will be in the green-room at midnight. Ah, the queen is retiring; and there is the Duke of Norfolk leaving the hall. I have a slight longing to see whether the duke goes hence luckily and without danger, or if the soldiers who stand near the coach, as Wriothesley says, will perchance be the duke’s bodyguard for this night.”
Slipping out of the hall with the quickness of a cat, John Heywood passed the duke in the anteroom and hurried on to the outer gateway, before which the carriages were drawn up.
John Heywood leaned against a pillar and watched. A few minutes, and the duke’s tall and proud form appeared in the entrance-hall; and the footman, hurrying forward, called his carriage.
The carriage rolled up; the door was opened.
Two men wrapped in black mantles sat by the coachman; two others stood behind as footmen, while a fifth was by the open door of the carriage.