Great Britain -- History -- Mary I, 1553-1558 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
He went then; and there for the time the negotiations ended. But,
seeing the dawn of hope, I was the more afraid of any trap or
surprise, and I cried to the Duchess to be on her guard. For this
reason, too, the suspense of the next few minutes was almost more
trying than anything which had gone before. But the minutes came at
last to an end. A voice below cried loudly in English, "Holloa! are
you friends?"
"Yes, yes," I replied joyfully, before the words had well ceased to
rebound from the walls. For the voice and accent were Master
Lindstrom's. A cry of relief from the room behind me showed that
there, too, the speaker was recognized. The Duchess came running to
the door, but I begged her to go back and keep a good lookout. And she
obeyed.
"How come you here? How has it happened?" Master Lindstrom asked, his
voice, though he still remained below, betraying his perplexity and
unhappiness. "Can I not do something? This is terrible, indeed."
"You can come up, if you like," I answered, after a moment's thought.
"But you must come alone. And I cannot let even you, friend as you
are, see our defenses."
As he came up I stepped back and drew the door of the room toward me,
so that, though a little light reached the head of the stairs, he
could not, standing there, see into the room or discern our real
weakness. I did not distrust him--Heaven forbid! but he might have to
tell all he saw to his friends below, and I thought it well, for his
sake as well as our own, that he should be able to do this freely, and
without hurting us. As he joined me I held up a finger for silence and
listened keenly. But all was quiet below. No one had followed him.
Then I turned and warmly grasped his hands, and we peered into one
another's faces. I saw he was deeply moved; that he was thinking of
Dymphna, and how I had saved her. He held my hands as though he would
never loose them.
"Well!" I said, as cheerfully as I could, "have you brought us an
offer of terms? But let me tell you first," I continued, "how it
happened." And I briefly explained that we had mistaken the captain of
the guard and his two followers for Clarence and the two Spaniards.
"Is he dead?" I continued.
"No, he is still alive," Master Lindstrom answered gravely. "But the
townsfolk are furious, and the seizure of the tower has still further
exasperated them. Why did you do it?"
"Because we should have been torn to pieces if we had not done it," I
answered dryly. "You think we are in a strait place?"
"Do you not think so yourself?" he said, somewhat astonished.
I laughed. "That is as may be," I answered with an affectation of
recklessness. "The staircase is narrow and the window low. We shall
sell our lives dearly, my friend. Yet, for the sake of the women who
are with us, we are willing to surrender if the citizens offer us
terms. After all, it was an accident. Cannot you impress this on
them?" I added eagerly.
He shook his head. "They will not hear reason," he said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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