“How so?” demanded Mary. “The unaccountable disappearance of this girl troubled me, as you know, and Carver’s supposed escape was equally displeasing to me.”
“You would have been informed of all in good time,” said Philip. “How I discovered their hiding-place, and why I sent them hither, shall be explained anon.”
“I trust the explanation will prove satisfactory,” replied Mary. “Meantime, I will see the prisoners myself, and interrogate them.”
“Shall they be brought before you?” inquired Pole.
“No,” returned the Queen; “I will proceed to the Lollards’ Tower. Your Eminence will attend me thither.”
“’Twere better not, Madam,” said Philip. “Be ruled by me, and let alone this visit.”
“You have some motive,” rejoined Mary, in a low tone—“some powerful motive for wishing me not to see Constance Tyrrell. I will see her. I will question her. I will learn the truth.”
“Well, then, learn the truth, Madam,” said Philip. “If you are pained by it, it is not my fault.”
“You have deceived me,” continued Mary—“shamefully deceived me. Of that I am convinced.”
“Reserve these remarks for a more fitting opportunity, Madam,” said the King. “Since you are bent upon going to the Lollards’ Tower, I will not interfere to prevent you. But at least put some guard upon yourself, and breed not scandal by your causeless suspicions.”