he said suddenly. 'Marry me. I came here to ask it.'

Her lips parted; she left her hand in his. The expected words had
come.

'I have thought on it,' she said. 'I knew ye could not long hold to
child and sire as ye sware ye would.'

'Kat,' he said, 'ye shall do my will. I ha' news from France. Ye gave
me good rede. I ha' news from Cleves: the Cleves woman shall no more
be queen of mine. Thee I will have.'

She raised herself from the bench and turned in the entrance of the
arbour to look at him.

'Give me leave to walk on the path,' she said. 'I have thought on
this--for I was sure I gave you good advice, and well I knew Cleves
would sever from ye.' She faltered: 'I ha' thought on it. But 'tis
different to think on it and to ha' the thing in your face.'

He uttered, 'Make haste,' and she walked down the path. He saw her,
tall, fair, swaying a little in the wind, raise her face to the
skies; her long fingers made the sign of the cross, her hood fell
back. Her lips moved; the fringes of her lashes came down over her
blue eyes, and she seemed to wrestle with her hands.

'Aye,' he muttered to himself half earnest, half sardonic, 'prayer is
better than thoughts. God strike with palsy them that made me afraid
to pray.... Aye, pray on, pray on,' he said again. 'But by God and His
wounds! ye shall be my queen.'

By the time she came back he laughed at her tempestuously, and pushing
the little prince tenderly with his huge foot, watched him roll on the
floor catching at the air.

'Why,' he said to her, 'what's the whimsy now? Shalt be the queen.
'Tis the sole way. 'Tis the way to the light.' He leant forward.
'Cleves has gone to the bastard called Charles to sue for mercy. Ye
led me so well to set Francis against Charles that I may snap my
fingers against both. None but thee could ha' forged that bolt. Child,
I will make a league with the Pope against Charles or Francis, with
Francis or Charles. Anne may go hang herself.' He rose to his feet and
stretched out both his hands, his eyes glowing beneath his deep brows.
'Body o' God! thou art a very fair woman; and now I will be such a
king as never was, and take France for mine own and set up Holy Church
again, and say good prayers and sleep in a warm bed. Body o' God! Body
o' God!'

'God and the saints save the issue!' she said. 'I am thy servant and
slave.'

But her tone made him recoil.

'What whimsy's here?' he muttered heavily, and his eyes became
suffused wit