John Heywood gazed astounded and amazed at the figure, which just brushed past without seeing him.
That figure was Lady Jane Douglas—Lady Jane, who, on account of indisposition, had retired from the feast in order to betake herself to rest. Now, when all rested, she watched—when all laid aside their festive garments, she had adorned herself with the same. Like the queen, she wore a dress of gold brocade, trimmed with ermine, and, like her, a diadem of diamonds adorned Lady Jane’s brow.
Now she stood before the queen’s door and listened. Then a fierce sneer flitted across her deathly pale face, and her dark eyes flashed still more.
“She sleeps,” muttered she. “Only sleep, queen—sleep till we shall come to wake you! Sleep, so that I can wake for you.”
She raised her arm threateningly toward the door, and wildly shook her head. Her long black ringlets encircled and danced around her sullen brow like the snakes of the furies; and pale and colorless, and with demon-like beauty, she resembled altogether the goddess of vengeance, in scornful triumph preparing to tread her victim beneath her feet.
With a low laugh she now glided adown the corridor, but not to that staircase yonder, but farther down to the end, where on the wall hung a life-size picture of Henry the Sixth. She pressed on a spring; the picture flew open, and through the door concealed behind it Lady Jane left the corridor.
“She is going to the green-room to a meeting with Henry Howard!” whispered John Heywood, who now stepped forth from behind the pillar. “Oh, now I comprehend it all; now the whole of this devilish plot is clear to me; Lady Jane is Earl Surrey’s lady-love, and they want to make the king believe that it is the queen. Doubtless this Surrey is with them in the conspiracy, and perhaps he will call Jane Douglas by the name of the queen. They will let the king see her but a moment. She wears a gold brocade dress and a diamond diadem like the queen; and thereby they hope to deceive Henry. She has the queen’s form precisely; and everybody knows the astonishing similarity and likeness of Lady Jane’s voice to that of the queen. Oh, oh, it is a tolerably cunning plot! But nevertheless you shall not succeed, and you shall not yet gain the victory. Patience, only patience! We likewise will be in the green-room, and face to face with this royal counterfeit we will place the genuine queen!”
With hurried step John Heywood also left the corridor, which was now lonely and still, for the queen had gone to rest.
Yes, the queen slept, and yet over yonder in the green-room everything was prepared for her reception.
It was to be a very brilliant and extraordinary reception; for the king, in his own person, had betaken himself to that wing of the castle, and the chief master of ceremonies, Earl Douglas, had accompanied him.