e coachman; two others stood
behind as footmen, while a fifth was by the open door of the carriage.

The duke first noticed him as his foot had already touched the step of
the carriage.

"This is not my equipage! These are not my people!" said he; and he
tried to step back. But the pretended servant forced him violently into
the carriage and shut the door. "Forward!" ordered he. The carriage
rolled on. A moment still, John Heywood saw the duke's pale face appear
at the open carriage window, and it seemed to him as though he were
stretching out his arms, calling for help--then the carriage disappeared
in the night. "Poor duke!" murmured John Heywood. "The gates of the
Tower are heavy, and your arm will not be strong enough to open them
again, when they have once closed behind you. But it avails nothing to
think more about him now. The queen is also in danger. Away, then, to
the queen!"

With fleet foot John Heywood hastened back into the castle. Through
passages and corridors he slipped hurriedly along.

Now he stood in the corridor which led to the apartments of the queen.

"I will constitute her guard to-night," muttered John Heywood, as he hid
himself in one of the niches in the corridor. "The fool by his prayers
will keep far from the door of his saint the tricks of the devil, and
protect her from the snares which the pious Bishop Gardiner and the
crafty courtier Douglas want to lay for her feet. My queen shall not
fall and be ruined. The fool yet lives to protect her."

CHAPTER XXXI. THE QUEEN

From the niche in which John Heywood had hid himself he could survey the
entire corridor and all the doors opening into it--could see everything
and hear everything without being himself seen, for the projecting
pilaster completely shaded him.

So John Heywood stood and listened. All was quiet in the corridor. In
the distance was now and then heard the deadened sound of the music; and
the confused hum of many voices from the festive halls forced its way to
the listener's ear.

This was the only thing that John Heywood perceived. All else was still.
But this stillness did not last long. The corridor was lighted up, and
the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps was heard.

It was the gold-laced lackeys, who bore the large silver candelabra to
light the queen, who, with her train of ladies, was passing through the
corridor.

She looked wondrously beautiful. The glare of the candles borne before
her illumin