g time walks on in the passage
hollowed out of the solid wall, till groping along she at last lays
hold again of a knob in the wall. She presses on it; and now at her
feet opens a trap-door, through which a feeble light forces its way
and renders visible a small narrow staircase there situated. Catharine
enters and descends the steps with winged feet. Now at the foot of the
staircase she again presses on a secret spring; and again a door opens,
through which the queen passes into a large hall.

"Oh," whispered she, fetching a long breath, "the green summer house at
last."

She quickly traversed it and opened the next door.

"John Heywood?"

"I am here, queen!"

"Hush, hush! gently as possible, that the watch, who walks up and
down just behind the door, may not hear us. Come, we still have a long
walk--let us make haste."

Again she pressed on a spring inserted in the wall; and again a door
opens. But before Catharine bolts this door, she takes the lamp burning
on the table there, which is to lighten the dark and difficult path
through which they are now to wend their way.

Now she bolts the door behind them; and they enter a long, dark
corridor, at the end of which is found still another staircase, and down
which they both go. Numberless steps conduct them below; gradually the
air becomes dense, the steps moist. The stillness of the grave is around
them. No sound of life, not the least noise, is now perceptible.

They are in a subterranean passage, which stretches out in length before
them farther than the eye can reach. Catharine turns to John Heywood;
the lamp lights up her face, which is pale, but exhibits an expression
firm and resolute.

"John Heywood, reflect once more! I ask not whether you have courage,
for I know that. I only wish to know whether you will employ this
courage for your queen?"

"No, not for the queen, but for the noble woman who has saved my son."

"You must then be my protector to-day if we meet with dangers. But if it
be God's will, we shall encounter no dangers. Let us go."

They go vigorously forward, silent all the way. At length they come to
a place where the passage grows broader, and spreads out into a little
open chamber, on the side walls of which a few teats are placed.

"We have now accomplished half of the journey," said Catharine; "and
here we will rest a little."

She placed the lamp on the small marble table in the middle of the
passage, and sat down, pointing to