es, I could scarcely arrest Hagthorne without at the
same time securing the old forester, which might have alarmed the
damsel. But I am ready to execute your injunctions now."

"Let a party of men go in search of Hagthorne to-night," replied Henry;
"and while Mabel is brought to the castle to-morrow, do you arrest old
Tristram, and keep him in custody till I have leisure to examine him."

"It shall be done as you desire, my liege," replied Bouchier, bowing and
departing.

Shortly after this Henry, accompanied by Anne Boleyn, proceeded with his
attendants to Saint George's Chapel, and heard vespers performed. Just
as he was about to return, an usher advanced towards him, and making
a profound reverence, said that a masked dame, whose habiliments
proclaimed her of the highest rank, craved a moment's audience of him.

"Where is she?" demanded Henry.

"In the north aisle, an't please your majesty," replied the usher,
"near the Urswick Chapel. I told her that this was not the place for an
audience of your majesty, nor the time; but she would not be said nay,
and therefore, at the risk of incurring your sovereign displeasure, I
have ventured to proffer her request."

The usher omitted to state that his chief inducement to incur the risk
was a valuable ring, given him by the lady.

"Well, I will go to her," said the king. "I pray you, excuse me for a
short space, fair mistress," he added to Anne Boleyn.

And quitting the choir, he entered the northern aisle, and casting his
eyes down the line of noble columns by which it is flanked, and seeing
no one, he concluded that the lady must have retired into the Urswick
Chapel. And so it proved; for on reaching this exquisite little shrine
he perceived a tall masked dame within it, clad in robes of the richest
black velvet. As he entered the chapel, the lady advanced towards him,
and throwing herself on her knees, removed her mask--disclosing features
stamped with sorrow and suffering, but still retaining an expression of
the greatest dignity. They were those of Catherine of Arragon.

Uttering an angry exclamation, Henry turned on his heel and would have
left her, but she clung to the skirts of his robe.

"Hear me a moment, Henry--my king--my husband--one single moment--hear
me!" cried Catherine, in tones of such passionate anguish that he could
not resist the appeal.

"Be brief, then, Kate," he rejoined, taking her hand to raise her.

"Blessings on you for the word!" cri