“Go to the lieutenant of the tower,” said Edward, promptly, as the page advanced to receive his orders. “Tell him that the king desires his presence without delay.”
The boy disappeared instantly; and when his companions in the ante-room crowded near to know why it was that a sound so full and bold had summoned him, in place of the faint, silvery tinkle which usually came from the king’s apartment, he put on a look of profound mystery, and, after describing the change which had come upon his royal master, gave it as his decided opinion, that something very tremendous and extraordinary was about to happen, but what the event might be he was not at liberty to inform them. This much he would, perhaps, venture to say. The lieutenant of the tower would soon be ordered to present himself before the king, and after that something might transpire to surprise them all. With these profound sayings, the boy departed from the ante-room, putting on his plumed cap with an important air, and placing a finger to his saucy red lips, in token of secrecy, as he looked back in passing through the door.
After an absence of half an hour, the page returned, following the lieutenant of the tower, for whom he ceremoniously held the door opening to King Edward’s chamber. The lieutenant passed in to the royal apartment, while his young escort closed the door after him, dexterously managing to leave it unlatched, and sufficiently ajar to command, for himself, a view of all that was passing within, while he stood toying with his cap, and, as his companions supposed, retaining his station merely to be within hearing of the king’s bell.
So little had Edward mingled in the affairs of his nation, that, for the first time in his life, he addressed an officer of his kingdom in the man who stood before him, who stood lost in astonishment at a summons so strange and unexpected.
Though a little restrained and shy in his manner, from almost constant illness and seclusion, there was a degree of quiet dignity about the young king’s bearing as he extended his hand to raise the lieutenant from his kneeling posture, that well became his station and his royal nature.
“We have sent to command your presence, sir lieutenant, somewhat against our usual habit; having been informed, to-day, that our uncle, the Duke of Somerset, with the gentle ladies of his household, have been placed prisoners under your care. Our desire is, that they be discharged the tower, at once, and sent, with all due honor in our own royal barge, to the duke’s palace on the Strand. You are commanded to see to this; retaining only, in pledge, the solemn word of our uncle, that he present himself before us, his king, in three days, to be confronted with his accusers, and to answer the charges brought against him.”
Edward slightly waved his hand, when he finished speaking, as if he deemed farther conversation or ceremony unnecessary; and, after thus quietly expressing his wishes, desired to be alone.
The lieutenant was a shrewd man, who held his station under favor of Northumberland, and who had been taught, like most of his fellow subjects, to regard the king as a mere shadow in his own realm. He was taken by surprise—so completely deprived of all presence of mind, by a command totally unexpected, and most important in its nature, that for a moment he stood gazing hard upon the floor, completely at a loss how to act, or what to say. At last, he cast a furtive look on the young monarch, who stood tranquilly regarding him, but instantly turning his eyes away, again bowed almost to the ground, and said, in a soft, deprecating voice, that he would mention the king’s desire to the Lord Protector forthwith, and that he would, doubtless, sign the order necessary for a release of the noble prisoner.
A fire, like that in the eye of an angry falcon, shot into the large, blue orbs which Edward fixed upon his officer. A streak of crimson flashed across his forehead; his slight figure was drawn proudly up, and, as his velvet robe, with its heavy facings of sables, fell back and swept the floor, there was a majesty in his look which well became a son of Henry the Eighth. After regarding the confused lieutenant a second, with a glance, which made that personage more desirous to leave the room than he had even been to enter it, the young monarch turned away, saying, in the same calm and tranquil tone in which his first command had been given—
“The King of England will write his own orders—wait.”