"'Can this be true?' cried Margaret – that's you, you know, Bessie – be ready to catch me. 'Help! my lady is about to faint with joy.'"
Here Eyebright sank on the grass, while Bessie made a dash, and raised her head.
"'Is it? Can it be – true?' murmured the Lady Jane," – her languid hand meanwhile stealing into the dinner-pail, and producing therefrom a big red apple.
"'It is true – the blessed news is indeed true,' cried the true-hearted Margaret.
"'I feel new life in my veins;' and the Lady Jane sprang to her feet." Here Eyebright scrambled to hers.
"'Come, Margaret,' she cried, 'we most decide in what garb we shall greet my dearest lord when he comes from prison. Don't you think the cram – cram – cramberry velvet, with a net-work of pearls, and,' – what else did they wear, Bessie?"
"Girdles?" ventured Bessie.
"'And a girdle of gems,'" went on Eyebright, easily, and quite regardless of expense. "'Don't you think that will be best, girl?'"
"Oh, Eyebright, would she say 'girl?'" broke in Bessie; "it doesn't sound polite enough for the Lady Jane."
"They all do, – I assure you they do. I can show you the place in Shakespeare. It don't sound so nice, because when people say 'girl,' now, it always means servant-girl, you know; but it was different then; and Lady Jane did say 'my girl.' And you mustn't interrupt so, Bessie, or we shan't get to the execution this recess, and after school I want to play the little Princes in the Tower."
"I won't interrupt any more," said Bessie; "go on."
"'Yes, the cramberry velvet is my choice,'" resumed Eyebright. "'Sir Knight, accept my grateful thanks.'
"He bent low and kissed her fair hand.
"'May naught but good tidings await you ever-more!' he murmured. 'Sorrow should never light on so fair a being.'
"'Ah,' she said, 'sorrow seems my portion. What is rank or riches or ducality to a happy heart!'"
"What did you say? What was that word, Eyebright?"
"Ducality. Lady Jane's father was a duke, you know."
"The knight sighed deeply, and withdrew.
"'Ah, Guildford,' murmured the Lady Jane, laying her head on the shoulder of her beloved Margaret, 'shall I indeed see you once more? It seems too good to be true.'"
Eyebright paused, and bit into her apple with an absorbed expression. She was meditating the next scene in her romance.
"So the next day and the next went by, and still the Lady Jane prayed and waited. Night came at last, and now Lord Guildford might appear at any moment. Margaret dressed her lovely mistress in the velvet robe, twined the pearls in her golden hair, and clasped the jewelled girdle round her slender waist. One snow-white rose was pinned in her bosom. Never had she looked so wildly beautiful. But still Lord Guildford came not. At last a tap at the door was heard.
"'It is he!' cried the Lady Jane, and flew to meet him.
"But alas! it was not he. A stern and gigantic form filled the door-way, and, entering, looked at her with fiery eyes. No, his helmet was shut tight. Wouldn't that be better, Bessie?"
"Oh yes, much better. Do have it shut," said the obliging Bessie.
"His lineaments were hidden by his helmet," resumed Eyebright, correcting herself; "but there was something in his aspect which made her heart thrill with terror.
"'You are looking to see if I am one who will never cross your path again,' he said, in a harsh tone. 'Lady Jane Grey – no! Guildford Dudley has this day expiated his crimes on Tower Hill. His headless trunk is already buried beneath the pavement where traitors lie.'
"'Oh no, no; in mercy unsay the word!' shrieked the Lady Jane, and with one quick sob she sank lifeless to the earth, while Margaret sank beside her. We won't really sink, I think, Bessie, because the grass stains our clothes so, and they get so mussed up. Wealthy says she can't imagine what I do to my things; there was so much grass-green in them that it greened all the water in the tub last wash, she told mother; that was when we played the Coramantic Captive, you know, and I had to keep fainting all the time. We'll just make believe we sank, I guess.
"'Rouse yourself, Lady,' went on the stern warrior 'I have more to communicate. You are my prisoner. Here is the warrant to arrest you, and the soldiers wait outside.'
"One dizzy moment, and Lady Jane rallied the spirit of her race. Her face was deadly pale, but she never looked more lovely.
"'I am ready,' she said, with calm dignity; 'only give me time to breathe one prayer,' and, sinking at the foot of her crucifix, she breathed an Ave Maria in such melodious tones that all present refrained from tears.
"'Lead on,' she murmured.
"We now pass to the scene of execution," proceeded Eyebright, whose greatest gift as a storyteller was her power of getting over difficult parts of the narrative in a sort of inspired, rapid way. "I guess we won't have any trial, Bessie, because trials are so hard, and I don't know exactly how to do them. It was a chill morning in early spring. The sun had hid his face from the awful spectacle. The bell was tolling, the crowd assembled, and the executioner stood leaning on the handle of his dreadful axe. The block was ready! – "
"Oh, Eyebright, it is awful!" interposed Bessie, on the point of tears.
"At last the door of the Tower opened," went on the relentless Eyebright, "and the slender form of the Lady Jane appeared, led by the captain of the guard, and followed by a long procession of monks and soldiers. Her faithful Margaret was by her side, drowned in tears. She was so young, so fair and so sweet that all hearts pitied her, and when she turned to the priest and said, 'Fa-ther, do not we-ep' – "
Eyebright here broke down and began to cry. As for Bessie, she had been sobbing hard, with her handkerchief over her eyes for nearly two minutes.
"'I am go-ing to hea-ven,'" faltered Eyebright, overcome with emotion. "'Thank my cousin, Bloody Mary, for sending me th-ere.'"
"Can you tell me the way to Mr. Bright's house?" said a voice just behind them.
The girls jumped and looked round. In the excitement of the execution, they had wandered, without knowing it, to the far edge of the green, which bordered on the public road. A gentleman on horseback had stopped close beside them, and was looking at them with an amused expression, which changed to one of pity, as the two tear-stained faces met his eye.
"Is any thing the matter? Are you in any trouble?" he asked, anxiously.
"Oh no, sir; not a bit. We are only playing; we are having a splendid time," explained Eyebright.
And then, anxious to change the subject, and also to get back to Lady Jane and her woes, she made haste with the direction for which the stranger had asked.
"Just down there, sir; turn the first street, and it's the fourth house from the corner. No, the fifth, – which is it, Bessie?"
"Let me see," replied Bessie, counting on her fingers. "Mrs. Clapp's, Mr. Potter's, Mr. Wheelwright's, – it's the fourth, Eyebright."
The gentleman thanked them and rode away. As he did so, the bell tinkled at the schoolhouse door.
"Oh, there's that old bell. I don't believe it's time one bit. Miss Fitch must have set the clock forward," declared Eyebright.
Alas, no; Miss Fitch had done nothing of the sort, for at that moment clang went the town-clock, which, as every one knew, kept the best of time, and by which all the clocks and watches in the neighborhood were set.
"Pshaw, it really is!" cried Eyebright. "How short recess seems! Not longer than a minute."
"Not more than half a minute," chimed in Bessie. "Oh, Eyebright, it was too lovely! I hate to go in."
The cheeks and eyelids of the almost executed Lady Jane and her bower maiden were in a sad state of redness when they entered the schoolroom, but nobody took any particular notice of them. Miss Fitch