She saw Kingston advance toward her father, and say he arrested him in the name of the king; and then take his hand to express the regret with which he executed this act of obedience to the king. “The coward!” she thought; “he sacrifices his friend.”
She saw her father approach her, to clasp her in his arms, to bid her adieu, to tell her to return home, to watch over her sisters, to respect her mother, take care of Henry Pattison, for his sake. She heard all this; she was almost unconscious, for she saw and heard, and yet remained transfixed and motionless. Then he left her. Kingston conducted him, the guards surrounded him, he passed through the door leading into the interior of the Tower; it closed, and Margaret was alone.
She stood thus for a long time, as if paralyzed by what had just passed before her. She put her hand upon her forehead; it was burning, and she could recall nothing more. By degrees animation returned, and she felt she was cold. She looked around her; she saw the clerk still seated at his desk, writing. Absolute silence reigned; those great walls were gloomy, deaf, and mute. Then she arose. She saw the day was declining; she thought she would try to go. Roper was waiting, and perhaps uneasy. She cast a lingering look at the door she had seen close upon her father; she set these places in her memory, saying: “I will return.” She then went out, and slowly descended to the bank of the river, where she found Roper, who had charge of
the boat, and who was astonished at her long absence.
“Well, Margaret, and your father?” he said, seeing her alone. She drooped her head. “Will he not return?”
“No,” she replied, and entered the boat; then she suddenly seized the hands of Roper. “He is there—do you see?—within those black walls, in that gloomy prison. The guards have taken him; they seized and surrounded him; he disappeared, and I am left—left alone! He has sent me away; he told me to go. Kingston! Cromwell! O Roper! I can stand no more; let us go.” And Margaret sank, panting and exhausted, upon the forepart of the boat. Roper listened and looked at her.
“What! he will not return?” he repeated; and his eyes questioned Margaret.
But the noble and beautiful young girl heard him not; with her eyes fixed on the walls of the Tower, she seemed absorbed in one thought alone.
“Farewell, farewell, my father!” she said. “Your ears no more hear me, but your heart responds to my own. Farewell, farewell!” And she made a sign with her hand, as though she had him before her eyes.
“Is it true, Margaret, that he will not return?”