Windsor Castle [159]
proceeded from too much regard, and if I am acquitted of my present charge, I will offend him so no more."
"We will report what you say to the king," rejoined Suffolk gravely; "but we are bound to add that his highness does not act on mere suspicion, the proofs of your guilt being strong against you."
"There can be no such proofs," cried Anne quickly. "Who are my accusers? and what do they state?"
"You are charged with conspiring against the king's life, and dishonouring his bed," replied Suffolk sternly. "Your accusers will appear in due season."
"They are base creatures suborned for the purpose!" cried Anne. "No loyal. person would so forswear himself."
"Time will show you who they are, madam," said Suffolk.
" But having now answered all your questions, I pray you permit us to retire."
"Shall I not see the king before I am taken to the Tower?" said Anne, upon whom the terror of her situation rushed with new force.
"His highness has quitted the castle," replied Suffolk, " and there is no likelihood of his return to-night."
"You tell me so to deceive me," cried Anne. "Let me see him--let me throw myself at his feet! I can convince him of my innocence and move him to compassion! Let me see him, I implore of you--I charge you!"
"I swear to you, madam, that the king has departed for Hampton Court," replied Suffolk.
"Then take me to him there, under strong guard, or as secretly as you please," she cried passionately; "I will return with you instantly, if I am unsuccessful."
"Were I to comply with your request it would be fruitless, madam," replied Suffolk; "the king would not see you."
"Oh, Suffolk!" cried Anne, prostrating herself before him, "I have shown you many kindnesses in my season of power, and have always stood your friend with the king. Do me this favour now; I will never forget it. Introduce me to the king. I am sure I can move his heart, if I can only see him."
"It would cost me my head, madam," said the duke in an inexorable tone. " Rise, I pray you."
"You are more cruel than the king," said Anne, obeying. "And now, my lords," she continued with more composure and dignity, "since you refuse my last request, and plainly prove to me the sort of justice I may expect, I will not detain you longer. I shall be ready to attend you to the Tower tomorrow."
"The barge will proceed an hour before dawn," said Suffolk.
"Must I, then, go by water? " asked Anne.
"Such are the king's commands," replied Suffolk.
"It is no matter," she rejoined; "I shall be ready when you will, for I shall not retire to rest during the night."
Upon this Suffolk and the others slowly withdrew, and Anne again retired to the oratory.
She remained alone, brooding, in a state of indescribable anguish, upon the probable fate awaiting her, when all at once, raising her eyes, she beheld a tall dark figure near the arras.
Even in the gloom she recognised Herne the Hunter, and with difficulty repressed a scream.
"Be silent!" cried Herne, with an emphatic gesture. "I am come to deliver you."
Anne could not repress a joyful cry.
"Not so loud," rejoined Herne, "or you will alarm your attendants. I will set you free on certain conditions."
"Ah! conditions!" exclaimed Anne, recoiling; "if they are such as will affect my eternal welfare, I cannot accept them."
"You will repent it when it is too late," replied Herne. "Once removed to the Tower I can no longer aid you. My power extends only to the forest and the castle."
"Will you take me to the king. at Hampton Court?" said Anne.
"It would be useless," replied Herne. "I will only do what I have stated. If you fly with me, you can never appear again as Anne Boleyn. Sir Henry Norris shall be set free at the same time, and you shall both dwell with me in the forest. Come!"
"I cannot go," said Anne, holding back; "it were to fly to a worse danger. I may save my soul now; but if I embrace your offer I am lost for ever."
Herne laughed derisively.
"You need have no fear on that score" he said.
"I will not
"We will report what you say to the king," rejoined Suffolk gravely; "but we are bound to add that his highness does not act on mere suspicion, the proofs of your guilt being strong against you."
"There can be no such proofs," cried Anne quickly. "Who are my accusers? and what do they state?"
"You are charged with conspiring against the king's life, and dishonouring his bed," replied Suffolk sternly. "Your accusers will appear in due season."
"They are base creatures suborned for the purpose!" cried Anne. "No loyal. person would so forswear himself."
"Time will show you who they are, madam," said Suffolk.
" But having now answered all your questions, I pray you permit us to retire."
"Shall I not see the king before I am taken to the Tower?" said Anne, upon whom the terror of her situation rushed with new force.
"His highness has quitted the castle," replied Suffolk, " and there is no likelihood of his return to-night."
"You tell me so to deceive me," cried Anne. "Let me see him--let me throw myself at his feet! I can convince him of my innocence and move him to compassion! Let me see him, I implore of you--I charge you!"
"I swear to you, madam, that the king has departed for Hampton Court," replied Suffolk.
"Then take me to him there, under strong guard, or as secretly as you please," she cried passionately; "I will return with you instantly, if I am unsuccessful."
"Were I to comply with your request it would be fruitless, madam," replied Suffolk; "the king would not see you."
"Oh, Suffolk!" cried Anne, prostrating herself before him, "I have shown you many kindnesses in my season of power, and have always stood your friend with the king. Do me this favour now; I will never forget it. Introduce me to the king. I am sure I can move his heart, if I can only see him."
"It would cost me my head, madam," said the duke in an inexorable tone. " Rise, I pray you."
"You are more cruel than the king," said Anne, obeying. "And now, my lords," she continued with more composure and dignity, "since you refuse my last request, and plainly prove to me the sort of justice I may expect, I will not detain you longer. I shall be ready to attend you to the Tower tomorrow."
"The barge will proceed an hour before dawn," said Suffolk.
"Must I, then, go by water? " asked Anne.
"Such are the king's commands," replied Suffolk.
"It is no matter," she rejoined; "I shall be ready when you will, for I shall not retire to rest during the night."
Upon this Suffolk and the others slowly withdrew, and Anne again retired to the oratory.
She remained alone, brooding, in a state of indescribable anguish, upon the probable fate awaiting her, when all at once, raising her eyes, she beheld a tall dark figure near the arras.
Even in the gloom she recognised Herne the Hunter, and with difficulty repressed a scream.
"Be silent!" cried Herne, with an emphatic gesture. "I am come to deliver you."
Anne could not repress a joyful cry.
"Not so loud," rejoined Herne, "or you will alarm your attendants. I will set you free on certain conditions."
"Ah! conditions!" exclaimed Anne, recoiling; "if they are such as will affect my eternal welfare, I cannot accept them."
"You will repent it when it is too late," replied Herne. "Once removed to the Tower I can no longer aid you. My power extends only to the forest and the castle."
"Will you take me to the king. at Hampton Court?" said Anne.
"It would be useless," replied Herne. "I will only do what I have stated. If you fly with me, you can never appear again as Anne Boleyn. Sir Henry Norris shall be set free at the same time, and you shall both dwell with me in the forest. Come!"
"I cannot go," said Anne, holding back; "it were to fly to a worse danger. I may save my soul now; but if I embrace your offer I am lost for ever."
Herne laughed derisively.
"You need have no fear on that score" he said.
"I will not