Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
It was instantly unfastened, and the wizard himself stood on the
threshold. Taken by surprise, Raby recoiled a step at the startling
vision. The little man was arrayed in blood red from head to foot,
his velvet doublet heavily embroidered in black, and on his breast,
sparkling like an evil eye, was a splendid opal. He viewed his
uninvited guests calmly, his keen glance instantly singling out the
queen, though she had drawn back behind the others. Sanders smiled,
coming down the steps to meet them.
“Sir Francis Bryan and Master Raby, you are welcome,” he said quietly;
“these ladies, I see, would not be called by their names, but, even
unknown, they are also welcome.”
“We have come here for entertainment and instruction, Sir Wizard,” Raby
said, seeing the hesitation of his companions; “’tis for your art to
furnish it.”
“Ay,” replied the wizard calmly, his brilliant black eyes still fixed
upon Anne Boleyn, “I saw you when you came down to the water-stairs at
Greenwich.”
The queen started and drew her mantle closer, while both Lady Rochford
and Mistress Gaynsford recoiled in superstitious dread. Anxious as
they all were to conceal Anne’s identity, this remark threw them into
confusion. It was Betty who came boldly to the rescue.
“Good Master Wizard,” she said, “I pray you tell us our fortunes.”
“Yours I have already told, Mistress Carew,” he replied with a smile.
At this Betty, too, drew back in amazement, but Simon Raby reassured
her.
“He knew thy voice,” he whispered; “’tis but child’s play, have no
fear.”
Alarmed at the wizard’s knowledge, Lady Rochford had laid her hand on
the queen’s arm, trying to draw her away, but Anne shook her off with
impatience; possessing a naturally intrepid and wilful nature, she had
no mind to be so easily balked in her purpose. She walked over to the
table, and pointed her finger at some glass instruments and a scepter
lying there.
“What are these, sir?” she said curiously, her natural taste for
adventure overcoming her hesitation.
“They are used to conjure the four kings, madam,” replied the wizard,
courteously; “I will gladly show you more curious things.”
The room was hung with every gruesome evidence of his trade, and as
he spoke, he opened a curiously wrought box of silver to show Anne a
serpent skin, but her mind was on other matters.
“Sir,” she said abruptly, “are you the wizard who consorted so freely
with my lord privy seal when he was in the house of the cardinal?”
Sanders was too keen to be caught in the snare that she had set for him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account