Always it seemed that beside her stalked the shadowy figure of the executioner. It seemed that the bells continually warned her: “Sons, sons, sons!”
And then Sir Thomas Seymour returned to the court.
CHAPTER
III
THE QUEEN WAS IN HER APARTMENTS, WORKING ON the great tapestry which she proposed to use as hangings in the Tower. With her were the ladies whom she loved best: Anne Askew, ethereal, remote from them all, her blue eyes seeming a little strained after so much reading; that other Anne, Lady Herbert, Katharine’s sister who had been with her since she had become Queen; Margaret Neville, the stepdaughter whom Katharine loved as though she were her own; Lady Tyrwhit and the Duchess of Suffolk, with young Lady Jane Grey.
Their fingers worked busily while they talked, and their talk was of the New Learning.
Little Jane was interested. When she and Edward were alone they talked of the New Faith. Edward read books she brought to him, which had been given to her, with the Queen’s consent, by Anne Askew.
Jane knew that these ladies, who had her love and her sympathy, believed that she might one day be Edward’s Queen, and it seemed important to them that she be a Protestant Queen, and Edward a Protestant King. Jane had heard frightening stories of what was happening in Spain under the dreaded Inquisition, and how it was the great wish of the Spaniards that the Inquisition should be set up in all countries.
Little Jane could not bear the thought of violence. The stories she heard of the hideous tortures horrified her. There were occasions when the court was at the palace of Hampton, and she had stood in the gallery which led to the chapel and imagined she heard the terrible screams and saw the ghost of Catharine Howard.
How did it feel, wondered Jane, to know that in a short time you would walk out to the block and lay down your head?
As she listened to the impassioned voice of Anne Askew who read aloud from the forbidden books, she knew that Anne was the only one in this apartment who was unafraid of torture and violent death.
The Queen’s sister was apprehensive and uneasy, and chiefly for the sake of the Queen.
It was nearly two years since the King had ordered that a picture be painted of himself and his children with Queen Jane Seymour at his side. Edward had told Jane of it and how unhappy he had been to stand there beside his father, and how he had kept glancing over his shoulder to see if his mother had really returned from the grave.
The Queen had felt that insult deeply, but she had given no sign of what she felt. Jane had seen the King and Queen together, had seen the King lay his foot on the Queen’s lap, had seen him rest his jeweled hand on her knee; she had also seen the black looks on his face and heard the menace in his voice.
How did it feel to be afraid… afraid that one day you would be sent to the Tower, never to emerge again except for that last walk to the scaffold?
Uncle Thomas Seymour was back at court. Jane had noticed how coldly he looked at the Queen, but his looks were not so cold when they rested on the Princess Elizabeth.
The Queen’s thoughts were as busy as her fingers on the tapestry. She was not thinking of the doctrines so ardently preached by Anne Askew. She agreed with Anne; she admired Anne; and she was glad that she had been able to protect her here at court. But Thomas was back, and she could think of nothing else. He had been back many months, and she felt that meeting him every day and having nothing from him but cold looks was more than she could bear.
But she understood. His motive was wise and necessary. She would have him run no risks.
The King had evidently ceased to be jealous of him, for he had made him Lord High Admiral and a gentleman of his Privy Chamber. There were times when he was so cordial toward his brother-in-law and looked at him with such sly speculation, that Katharine wondered whether he was hoping to accuse him with his Queen. All through those months Henry had been alternately doting and menacing, assuring her that she was his dear Kate, his good nurse, and shortly afterward complaining that she was not pregnant.
It was nearly three years since their marriage, and there had not been even one pregnancy. Moreover it was remembered that she had had two husbands and not a child from either of them. Three years of these alarms— three years when she must submit to the King’s caresses and the King’s anger, and accept all with a meek endurance. Three years that seemed like thirty!
She was tired suddenly and wished to go to her bedchamber and rest. She rose and said that she would retire.
“Jane,” she said, “come with me and make me comfortable.”
All the ladies rose, and when the Queen had left the apartment with the little nine-year-old Jane in attendance, they dispersed to their own rooms.
Anne Askew felt in turns triumphant and resigned. She had many friends at court; her gentle nature, her complete lack of worldliness, her goodness and purity, had made people look upon her as a saint. Others regarded her as a fool to have left her rich husband, to have come to court as a sort of missionary for the new faith, to have laid herself open to the enmity of such men as Gardiner and his friend who was now Chancellor Wriothesley.
A few days before, Anne had received a warning. She had found a note under her bolster when she retired one night. “Have a care. It is the Queen they want. But they will strike at her through you.”
And then again there had been another note. “Leave this court. You are in danger.”
Anne would not go. She believed she had a vocation. Since her coming to court many ladies had been reading the books she treasured; there had been many converts to Protestantism and there would be many more. Anne knew that she was placing not only herself in danger, but others also. But to Anne there was nothing to be feared save infidelity to the truth. The religion imposed on the country by the King differed only from the old Roman faith in that, instead of a Pope at its head, it had a King. Anne wanted a complete break with the old faith; she believed the new and simpler religion to be the true one. She wanted all to be able to read the Bible; and how could those humble people, who did not understand the Latin tongue, do so unless they were allowed to read it in English? It was her desire to distribute translations all over the country.
