“My dear mistress,” she cried wildly, wringing her hands, “my good mistress is dead! What will become of me? It is my fault: I should have prevented her from going. Ah! how miserable I am!” And her tears and cries redoubled. At length she heard in the distance the sound of approaching footsteps, and was soon able to distinguish a litter, borne by a number of men. “Help!” she cried, her hopes reviving at the sight, and very soon they were near her--“help! come to my assistance; my mistress is dying!” Seeing two women, one lying on the ground supported in the arms of another, who appeared half-deranged, the person who occupied the litter commanded the men to stop immediately, and he quickly alighted. It was the king! He also was going to London to see the legate; to prevent his anxious haste from being known, and commented on, he had adopted this secret conveyance. When she saw him, Leonora was paralyzed with apprehension and alarm. The king instantly recognized the queen and the unhappy Leonora. In a furious voice, he demanded what she was doing there and where she had been. But in vain she endeavored to reply--her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth--she was unable to articulate a word. Transported with rage at her silence, and by what he suspected, he immediately had the queen placed in the litter, and ordering the men to walk slowly, he followed them on foot to the palace. Catherine was carried to her own apartment, and soon restored to consciousness; but on opening her eyes she looked around, vainly hoping to behold her faithful Leonora. She never saw her again! She had been taken away, and the punishment that was meted out to her, or the fate that befel the unfortunate girl, was for ever involved in mystery. While discord filled the royal palace with perplexity and sorrow a statesman, simple and peaceful, awaited, with happiness mingled with impatience, the arrival of a friend. In his house, all around him seemed possessed of redoubled activity. The family table was more elegantly spread, fresh flowers decorated all the apartments, the children ran to and fro in the very excess of their joy and delight, until at length, in every direction, the glad announcement was heard, “He has come! he has come!” The entire family eagerly descended to the court-yard to meet and welcome the visitor, and Sir Thomas, with feelings of inexpressible joy, folded in his embrace the Bishop of Rochester, the wise and virtuous Fisher, whom he loved with the purest and tenderest sentiments of friendship. “At last you are here,” he exclaimed; “how happy I am to see you once more!”