“Having said so much, Wyatt, there is no hurt in saying all,” remarked Lady Rochford, scornfully. Mary Wyatt cast a glance of anger and dislike at the woman whom she deeply distrusted, believing her untrue to the queen, but she obeyed Anne’s behest and told the rest without further demur. “The house is in London,” she said calmly, “and we came to it by the water-gate, over the which is set a great image of an owl. The building is very old; ’tis said that William Rufus built it, but I know not; it is dark and tall and narrow, for there have been two stories added to the original two, and these upper ones are graduated, being like two blocks set on the house, the highest being the least, and the roof is pointed like the houses that I saw at Antwerp. From the outside, it seems as full of windows as a sieve is full of holes, and none are even, but within ’tis dark as a sepulcher. The door we came to, which faces the river, is small and very strong, having three cross-bars of iron to stay the wood, and on it are the signs of the zodiac, and above it the head of a serpent. The house, they say, hath five doors, albeit you may find but three with the naked eye; but verily there should be one opening downward for the convenience of Satan. When you are admitted there are stairs to climb up, up, to the third story, the first of the two little ones. Here there are three rooms all draped, and here he receives you. Above only his favored clients go; that upper story is his observatory, from whence he says he reads the heavens and casts your horoscope. Many gruesome things he has there, a treasury of horrors. But truly, madam, the man is marvellous and reads the mind as he doth an open scroll.” “I will see this marvel,” said the queen, with sudden animation; “I will go to this house--unknown--and have my horoscope cast.” “Oh, madam, I beseech you not!” cried Mrs. Wyatt, her face paling with some apprehension which she dared not tell; “if you must see him, have him here, as becomes you, but not there--not there!” “Tush, Mary!” cried the queen, her whim taking possession of her, “you are a fool! ’Twill be a mask worth playing. Right glad should I be to be merry for one hour; we will go now--at once!” “Madam, madam, ’tis too late!” exclaimed Lady Rochford; “the king’s grace will be ill pleased.” Anne drew herself up with flashing eyes. “Who gave you charge of me, my Lady Rochford?” she said bitterly; “am I the queen or you?” Her sister-in-law winced and drew back, but she bit her lip in passionate anger at the rebuke. “Have your way, madam,” she said coldly; “we are but your servants.” The queen turned her back upon her with a gesture of disdain. “Mary,” she said to Mrs. Wyatt, “go you and get me a mask and a sober mantle and hood; and you, Mistress Carew, call hither some gentlemen we can trust to escort us; we shall need but two stout serving men beside.”