“You swear that no immoral act ever took place between you and the Queen after her marriage with the King?”
“I swear it.”
“Come, Mr. Derham. Be reasonable. Does it seem logical to you in view of what you once were to the Queen?”
“I care not what it may seem. I only know that no act of immorality ever took place between us since her marriage.”
Wriothesley sighed. “You try my patience sorely,” he said, and left him.
He returned in half an hour accompanied by two burly men.
“Mr. Derham,” said the King’s secretary softly, “I would ask you once more to confess to adultery with the Queen.”
“I cannot confess what is not so.”
“Then I must ask you to accompany us.”
Derham was no coward; he knew the meaning of that summons; they were going to torture him. He pressed his lips together, and silently prayed for the courage he would have need of. He had led an adventurous life of late; he had faced death more than once when he had fought on the rough sea for booty. He had taken his chances recklessly as the inevitable milestones on the road of adventure; but the cold-blooded horror of the torture chamber was different.
In the corridors of the Tower was the sickening smell of death; there was dried blood on the floor of the torture rooms. If he admitted adultery, what would they do to Catherine? They could not hurt her for what was done before. They could not call that treason, even though she had deceived the King into thinking her a virgin. They could not hurt Catherine if he refused to say what they wished. He would not swerve. He would face all the torture in the world rather than harm her with the lies they wished him to tell. She had not loved him since his return from Ireland; but he had continued to love her. He would not lie.
They were stripping him of his clothes. They were putting him on the rack. Wriothesley, one of the cruelest men in all England, was standing over him implacably.
“You are a fool, Derham. Why not confess and have done!”
“You would have me lie?” asked Derham.
“I would have you save yourself this torture.”
The ropes were about his wrists; the windlasses were turned. He tried to suppress his cries, for it was more cruel than his wildest imaginings. He had not known there could be such pain. He shrieked and they stopped.
“Come, Derham. You committed adultery with the Queen.”
“No, no.”
Wriothesley’s cruel lips were pressed together; he nodded to the tormentors. It began again. Derham fainted and they thrust the vinegar brush under his nose.
“Derham, you fool. Men cannot endure much of this.”
That was true; but there were men who would not lie to save themselves from death, even if it must be death on the rack; and Derham, the pirate, was one of them.
When it would have been death to continue with the torture they carried him away; he was fainting, maimed and broken; but he had told them nothing.
When the Dowager Duchess heard what had happened at Hampton Court she shut herself into her chamber and was sick with fear. The Queen under lock and key! Derham in the Tower! She remembered her sorrow when Anne was sent to the Tower; but now side by side with sorrow went fear, and out of these two was born panic.
She must not stay idle. She must act. Had she not assured His Majesty of Catherine’s purity and goodness! And yet had she not beaten Catherine for her lewdness! Had she not warned Derham first, and had he not, later, run away to escape her anger when it had been discovered that he and Catherine had been living as husband and wife in her house!
She paced up and down her room. What if they questioned her! Her teeth chattered. She pictured the terrible end of the Countess of Salisbury, and saw herself running from the headsman’s axe. She was rich; her house was chock-full of treasure. Was not the King always ready to dispatch those who were rich, that their goods might fall into his hands! She pictured the Duke’s sly eyes smiling at her. “That wench will go to the block!” he had said; and she had berated him, telling him he had better take care how he spoke of the Queen. Her stepson was her most deadly enemy and now he would have a chance of working openly against her.
She must waste no time. She must act. She went down to the great hall and called a confidential servant to her. She told him to go to Hampton Court, glean the latest news, and come back to her as fast as he could. She waited in mental anguish for his return, but when he came he could only tell her what she knew already. The Queen and Derham were accused of misconduct, and some of the Queen’s attendants were accused of being in on the guilty secret.
She thought of Derham’s friend Damport, who doubtless knew as much of Derham’s secrets as any. She had some hazy plan of bribing him to silence on all he knew.
“I hear Derham is taken,” she said plaintively, “and also the Queen; what is the matter?”
Damport said he thought Derham had spoken with indiscretion to a gentleman usher.
Her Grace’s lips quivered; she said that she greatly feared that in consequence of evil reports some harm should fall the Queen. She looked fearfully at Damport and said she would like to give him a little gift. Thereupon she presented him with ten pounds. It was stupid and clumsy, but she was too frightened to know what she did. She murmured something about his saying nothing of Catherine Howard’s friendship with Derham.
Her fear becoming hysterical, the Dowager Duchess paced from room to room. What if Catherine and Derham
