“She is dismissed!” said the king. “You will choose another maid of honor to-morrow. Come, Kate!”
And the king, supported by his consort and John Heywood, left the room with slow and heavy steps.
Earl Douglas watched them with a sullen, hateful expression. As the door closed after them he raised his arm threateningly toward heaven, and his trembling lips uttered a fierce curse and execration.
“Vanquished! vanquished again!” muttered he, gnashing his teeth. “Humbled by this woman whom I hate, and whom I will yet destroy! Yes, she has conquered this time; but we will commence the struggle anew, and our envenomed weapon shall nevertheless strike her at last!”
Suddenly he felt a hand laid heavily on his shoulder, and a pair of glaring, flaming eyes gazed at him.
“Father,” said Lady Jane, as she threw her right hand threateningly toward heaven—“father, as true as there is a God above us, I will accuse you yourself to the king as a traitor—I will betray to him all your accursed plots—if you do not help me to deliver Henry Howard!”
Her father looked with an expression almost melancholy in her face, painfully convulsed and pale as marble. “I will help you!” said he. “I will do it, if you will help me also, and further my plans.”
“Oh, only save Henry Howard, and I will sign myself away to the devil with my heart’s blood!” said Jane Douglas, with a horrible smile. “Save his life, or, if you have not the power to do that, then at least procure me the happiness of being able to die with him.”