h me become a guilty traitoress against your husband;
for you well know that he punishes every secret concealed from him as an
act of high treason. No, queen; if I am a criminal, you shall not he
my accomplice. Ah, it is always dangerous to be the confidant of such a
secret. You see that in John Heywood. He alone was my confidant, and he
betrayed me. I myself put the weapons into his hands, and he turned them
against me."

"No, no," said Catharine, thoughtfully; "John Heywood is true and
trusty, and incapable of treachery."

"He has betrayed me!" exclaimed Elizabeth, impetuously. "He knew--he
only--that I love, and that my beloved, though of noble, still is not of
princely birth. Yet it was he, as you said yourself, who moved the king
to introduce this paragraph into the act of succession."

"Then, without doubt, he has wished to save you from an error of your
heart."

"No, he has been afraid of the danger of being privy to this secret,
and at the cost of my heart and my happiness he wanted to escape this
danger. But oh, Catharine, you are a noble, great and strong woman; you
are incapable of such petty fear--such low calculation; therefore, stand
by me; be my savior and protectress! By virtue of that oath which we
have just now mutually taken--by virtue of that mutual clasp of
the hands just given--I call you to my help and my assistance. Oh,
Catharine, allow me this high pleasure, so full of blessing, of being at
some time, perhaps, able to make him whom I love great and powerful by
my will. Allow me this intoxicating delight of being able with my hand
to offer to his ambition at once power and glory--it may be even a
crown. Oh, Catharine, on my knees I conjure you--assist me to repeal
this hated law, which wants to bind my heart and my hand!"

In passionate excitement she had fallen before the queen, and was
holding up her hands imploringly to her.

Catharine, smiling, bent down and raised her up in her arms.
"Enthusiast," said she, "poor young enthusiast! Who knows whether you
will thank me for it one day, if I accede to your wish; and whether
you will not some time curse this hour which has brought you, perhaps,
instead of the hoped-for pleasure, only a knowledge of your delusion and
misery?"

"And were it even so," cried Elizabeth, energetically, "still it is
better to endure a wretchedness we ourselves have chosen, than to
be forced to a happy lot. Say, Catharine--say, will you lend me your
assistance? W