e!" repeated Earl Surrey.

"Here I am, my Henry!"

With an exclamation of delight, the woman rushed forward toward the
sound of the loved voice.

"The queen!" muttered Henry; and in spite of himself he felt his heart
seized with bitter grief.

He saw with his inward eye how they held each other in their embrace. He
heard their kisses and the low whisper of their tender vows, and all
the agonies of jealousy and wrath filled his soul. But yet the king
prevailed upon himself to be silent and swallow down his rage. He wanted
to hear everything, to know everything.

He clenched his hands convulsively, and pressed his lips firmly together
to hold in his panting breath. He wanted to hear.

How happy they both were! Henry had wholly forgotten that he had come
to reproach her for her long silence; she did not think about this being
the last time she might see her lover.

They were with each other, and this hour was theirs. What did the whole
world matter to them? What cared they whether or not mischief and ruin
threatened them hereafter?

They sat by each other on the divan, quite near the boudoir. They jested
and laughed; and Henry Howard kissed away the tears that the happiness
of the present caused his Geraldine to shed.

He swore to her eternal and unchanging love. In blissful silence she
drank in the music of his words; and then she reiterated, with jubilant
joy, his vows of love.

The king could scarcely restrain his fury.

The heart of Earl Douglas leaped with satisfaction and gratification.
"A lucky thing that Jane has no suspicion of our presence," thought
he--"otherwise she would have been less unrestrained and ardent, and the
king's ear would have imbibed less poison."

Lady Jane thought not at all of her father; she scarcely remembered that
this very night would destroy her hated rival the queen.

Henry Howard had called her his Geraldine only. Jane had entirely forgot
that it was not she to whom her lover had given this name.

But he himself finally reminded her of it.

"Do you know, Geraldine," said Earl Surrey--and his voice, which had
been hitherto so cheerful and sprightly, was now sad--"do you know,
Geraldine, that I have had doubts of you? Oh, those were frightful,
horrible hours; and in the agony of my heart I came at last to the
resolution of going to the king and accusing myself of this love that
was consuming my heart. Oh, fear naught! I would not have accused you.
I would have even deni