Windsor Castle. Ainsworth William Harrison

again frowning suspiciously.

      “I barred it myself,” said Surrey, “and vowed that the Lady Anne should not go forth till she had granted my request.”

      “By our lady you have placed yourself in peril, my lord,” said Henry sternly.

      “Your majesty will bear in mind his youth,” said the Duke of Norfolk anxiously.

      “For my sake overlook the indiscretion,” cried the Duke of Richmond.

      “It will not, perhaps, avail him to hope that it may be overlooked for mine,” added Anne Boleyn.

      “The offence must not pass unpunished,” said Henry musingly. “My lord of Surrey, you must be content to remain for two months a prisoner in the Round Tower of this castle.”

      “Your majesty!” cried Richmond, bending the knee in supplication.

      “The sentence is passed,” replied Henry coldly; “and the earl may thank you it is not heavier. Richmond, you will think no more of the fair Geraldine; and it is my pleasure, Lady Anne, that the young dame withdraw from the court for a short while.”

      “Your majesty shall be obeyed,” said Anne; “but—”

      “But me no buts, sweetheart,” said the king peremptorily. “Surrey’s explanation is satisfactory so far as it goes, but I was told Sir Thomas Wyat was here.”

      “Sir Thomas Wyat is here,” said Will Sommers, pointing out the knight, who had just joined the throng of courtiers at the door.

      “I have hurried hither from my chamber, my liege,” said Wyat, stepping forward, “hearing there was some inquiry concerning me.”

      “Is your majesty now satisfied?” asked Anne Boleyn.

      “Why, ay, sweetheart, well enough,” rejoined Henry. “Sir Thomas Wyat, we have a special mission for you to the court of our brother of France. You will set out to-morrow.”

      Wyat bowed.

      “You have saved your head, gossip,” whispered Will Sommers in the knight’s ear. “A visit to Francis the First is better than a visit to the Tower.”

      “Retire, my lords,” said Henry to the assemblage; “we owe some apology to the Lady Anne for our intrusion, and desire an opportunity to make it.”

      Upon this the chamber was instantly cleared of its occupants, and the Earl of Surrey was conducted, under a guard, to the Round Tower.

      Henry, however, did not find it an easy matter to make peace with the Lady Anne. Conscious of the advantage she had gained, she determined not to relinquish it, and, after half an hour’s vain suing, her royal lover proposed a turn in the long gallery, upon which her apartments opened. Here they continued conversing—Henry pleading in the most passionate manner, and Anne maintaining a show of offended pride.

      At last she exhibited some signs of relenting, and Henry led her into a recess in the gallery, lighted by a window filled with magnificent stained glass. In this recess was a seat and a small table, on which stood a vase filled with flowers, arranged by Anne’s own hand; and here the monarch hoped to adjust his differences with her.

      Meanwhile, word having reached Wolsey and Campeggio of the new cause of jealousy which the king had received, it was instantly resolved that the former should present to him, while in his present favourable mood, a despatch received that morning from Catherine of Arragon.

      Armed with the letter, Wolsey repaired to the king’s closet. Not finding him there, and being given to understand by an usher that he was in the great gallery, he proceeded thither. As he walked softly along the polished oak floor, he heard voices in one of the recesses, and distinguished the tones of Henry and Anne Boleyn.

      Henry was clasping the snowy fingers of his favourite, and gazing passionately at her, as the cardinal approached.

      “Your majesty shall not detain my hand,” said Anne, “unless you swear to me, by your crown, that you will not again be jealous without cause.”

      “I swear it,” replied Henry.

      “Were your majesty as devoted to me as you would have me believe, you would soon bring this matter of the divorce to an issue,” said Anne.

      “I would fain do so, sweetheart,” rejoined Henry; “but these cardinals perplex me sorely.”

      “I am told by one who overheard him, that Wolsey has declared the divorce shall not be settled these two years,” said Anne; “in which case it had better not be settled at all; for I care not to avow I cannot brook so much delay. The warmth of my affection will grow icy cold by that time.”

      “It were enough to try the patience of the most forbearing,” rejoined the king, smiling—“but it shall not be so—by this lily hand it shall not! And now, sweetheart, are we entirely reconciled?

      “Not yet,” replied Anne. “I shall claim a boon from your majesty before I accord my entire forgiveness.”

      “Name it,” said the king, still clasping her hand tenderly, and intoxicated by the witchery of her glance.

      “I ask an important favour,” said Anne, “but as it is one which will benefit your majesty as much as myself, I have the less scruple in requesting it. I ask the dismissal of one who has abused your favour, who, by his extortion and rapacity, has in some degree alienated the affections of your subjects from you, and who solely opposes your divorce from Catherine of Arragon because he fears my influence may be prejudicial to him.”