"For _her_ sake most!" I cried, and I marked The pang that my words could wring. And the iron tongs from the chimney-nook I snatched and held to the King: "Wrench up the plank! and the vault beneath Shall yield safe harbouring." With brows low-bent, from my eager hand The heavy heft did he take; And the plank at his feet he wrenched and tore; And as he frowned through the open floor, Again I said, "For her sake!" Then he cried to the Queen, "God's will be done!" For her hands were clasped in prayer. And down he sprang to the inner crypt; And straight we closed the plank he had ripp'd And toiled to smoothe it fair. (Alas! in that vault a gap once was Wherethro' the King might have fled; But three days since close-walled had it been By his will; for the ball would roll therein When without at the palm he play'd.) Then the Queen cried, "Catherine, keep the door, And I to this will suffice!" At her word I rose all dazed to my feet, And my heart was fire and ice. And louder ever the voices grew, And the tramp of men in mail; Until to my brain it seemed to be As though I tossed on a ship at sea In the teeth of a crashing gale. Then back I flew to the rest; and hard We strove with sinews knit To force the table against the door But we might not compass it. Then my wild gaze sped far down the hall To the place of the hearthstone-sill; And the Queen bent ever above the floor, For the plank was rising still. And now the rush was heard on the stair, And "God, what help?" was our cry. And was I frenzied or was I bold? I looked at each empty stanchion-hold, And no bar but my arm had I! Like iron felt my arm, as through The staple I made it pass: Alack! it was flesh and bone--no more! 'T was Catherine Douglas sprang to the door, But I fell back Kate Barlass. With that they all thronged into the hall, Half dim to my failing ken; And the space that was but a void before Was a crowd of wrathful men. Behind the door I had fall'n and lay, Yet my sense was widely aware, And for all the pain of my shattered arm I never fainted there. Even as I fell, my eyes were cast Where the King leaped down to the pit; And lo! the plank was smooth in its place, And the Queen stood far from it. And under the litters and through the bed And within the presses all The traitors sought for the King, and pierced The arras around the wall. And through the chamber they ramped and stormed Like lions loose in the lair, And scarce could trust to their very eyes-- For behold! no King was there.