“You will be watched. Just go on as before. Take your bribe. Let the lady in. Your little journey to our chamber, your inspection of our toys makes no difference. Go, my good man. You have answered well and faithfully.”
The jailor’s response was to fall into a faint on the earthen floor.
Wriothesley watched him with a smile. He liked the man. He had given the answer he most wished to hear.
WHEN NAN REACHED the Palace of Greenwich she went straight to the apartments of Lady Herbert as was her custom. The Queen’s sister had spent the time of her absence alternately on her knees praying for Nan’s safety, and at the window watching for her return.
“Nan,” said Lady Herbert, “how went it?”
“Much as before, my lady.”
“Methinks you are returned a little earlier.”
“Yes, my lady. I had scarcely time to take off all the clothing I had brought when the jailor urged me to leave the cell.”
“Why was that?” demanded Lady Herbert, her face growing pale.
“It was merely, he said, that he had not seen the guard in his usual place.”
Lady Herbert’s fingers played nervously with the jewels at her throat.
“This cannot go on. They suspect something.”
Nan threw herself on to her knees. When she had been in the company of Anne Askew she seemed infected by her fanaticism, her desire for martyrdom.
“My lady, I am ready to die, if need be, in the cause of the Queen and the Queen’s faith.”
Lady Herbert began to walk up and down the apartment.
“Oh, Nan, if only it were as simple as that! If death were swift and painless, how easy it would be! What else, Nan? How was she?”
“As strong as before in spirit, but very frail in body.”
“Nan, you must not go there again.”
“If the Queen commands me, I should go. There are times, my lady, when I almost feel a desire to be caught… though I know I should all but die of fright. There is something about that place, something that wraps itself about one. It is utter desolation, hopeless… and yet there is a kind of welcome.”
Lady Herbert took the young woman by her shoulders and gently shook her.
“Nan, Nan, do not talk so. You speak as one who is ready to embrace death.”
“Willingly would I do so, if the Queen commanded,” said Nan. “If they caught me, none should draw the secret from me. They could put me on the rack…”
“Hush, you foolish woman!” cried Lady Herbert almost angrily. “You know not what you say. Stronger than you have been broken in the torture chambers of the Tower.”
“They would not torture me…a woman. They do not torture women. I should be sent to the stake, and because I am a woman they would strangle me so that I should not feel the scorching of the flesh.”
Lady Herbert recognized the signs of hysteria. The strain was too much for any but a fanatic like Anne Askew. They must give up these dangerous visits. She must make the Queen see that they dared not continue with them.
“Go to your room,” she said. “I will send you a soothing draught. Drink it and draw your bedcurtains; then… sleep… sleep until you awake refreshed.”
Nan curtsied and went to her room.
And when she awoke from the soothing sleep, the lightheadedness had passed. She was herself once more. She could think of her experience with nothing but horror, and instead of seeing death beautified by martyrdom, she saw it evil and horrible, as the cold unhappy Tower had told her it must be.
IN THE QUEEN’S closet Lady Herbert shut the door and leaned against it.
“I am afraid,” she said.
“Why so?” asked the Queen.
“Our father and mother would never have dreamed that you would one day be Queen of England.”
“But the Queen of England must be braver than any lady in the land.”
“She must also be wiser. Oh, Kate, Anne Askew looks for martyrdom, but she is armed with her faith and her courage. You know that she has always been different from the rest of us.”
“Yes, even as a girl she was different. How remote she was from us! Oh, sister, what will they do to her? They have taken her because they wish, through her, to take me, and…we know why.”
“Yes, we know. It is you they wish to have in prison. They will try to make her admit that you too are in possession of the forbidden books, and that you have offended against the King’s laws.”
“And then?”
“And then I know not.”
“Do you not?” Katharine laughed bitterly. “Everything depends on His Majesty. If he wishes to see me condemned as a heretic, then condemned I shall be.” Her laughter grew wild. “It makes me laugh. I cannot help it. Everything depends on his state of health. If he is sick, I am safe for a while. But if he grows well…Oh Anne, is it not comic? I have watched his glances. The Duchess of Richmond is a comely lady. And so is Her Grace of Suffolk. Different types—and he cannot make up his mind which he prefers: the widow of his son, or the widow of Charles
