poor prisoner--for the freedom of a human heart, sire."

The king laughed. "A human heart? Does that then run about on the
street, so that it can be caught and made a prisoner of?"

"Sire, you have found it, and incarcerated it in your daughter's bosom.
You want to put Elizabeth's heart in fetters, and by an unnatural law
compel her to renounce her freedom of choice. Only think--to want to
bid a woman's heart, before she can love, to inquire first about the
genealogical tree, and to look at the coat-of-arms before she notices
the man!"

"Oh, women, women, what foolish children you are, though!" cried the
king, laughingly. "The question is about thrones, and you think about
your hearts! But come, Kate, you shall still further explain that to me;
and we will not take back our word, for we have given it you from a free
and glad heart."

He took the queen's arm, and, supported on it, walked slowly up the
alley with her. The lords and ladies of the court followed them in
silence and at a respectful distance; and no one suspected that this
woman, who was stepping along so proud and magnificent, had but just now
escaped an imminent peril of her life; that this man, who was leaning
on her arm with such devoted tenderness, had but a few hours before
resolved on her destruction. [Footnote: All this plot instigated by
Gardiner against the queen is, in minutest details, historically true,
and is found substantially the same in all historical works.] And whilst
chatting confidentially together they both wandered through the avenues,
two others with drooping head and pale face left the royal castle, which
was to be to them henceforth a lost paradise. Sullen spite and raging
hate were in their hearts, but yet they were obliged to endure in
silence; they were obliged to smile and to seem harmless, in order not
to prepare a welcome feast for the malice of the court. They felt the
spiteful looks of all these courtiers, although they passed by them with
down-cast eyes. They imagined they heard their malicious whispers,
their derisive laughter; and it pierced their hearts like the stab of a
dagger.

At length they had surmounted it--at length the palace lay behind them,
and they were at least free to pour out in words the agony that consumed
them--free to be able to break out into bitter execrations, into curses
and lamentations.

"Lost! all is lost!" said Earl Douglas to himself in a hollow voice. "I
am thwarted in all my plans.