Great Britain -- History -- Mary I, 1553-1558 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
One of the guards who had spent the night with me brought me at this
moment a bowl of broth with a piece of bread in it. I could not eat
the bread, but I drank the broth and felt the better for it. Having in
my pocket a little money with which the Duchess had furnished me, I
put a silver piece in the bowl and handed it back to him. The man
seemed astonished, and muttered something in German as he turned away.
"What did he say?" I asked the Dutchman.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," he answered.
"But what was it? It was something," I persisted, seeing him confused.
"He--well, he said he would have a mass said for you!" Lindstrom
answered in despair. "It will do no harm."
"No, why should it?" I replied mechanically.
We were in the street by this time, Master Lindstrom and Van Tree
walking beside me in the middle of a score of soldiers, who seemed to
my eyes fantastically dressed. I remarked, as we passed out, a tall
man clothed in red and black, who was standing by the door as if
waiting to fall in behind me. He carried on his shoulder a long
broad-bladed sword, and I guessed who he was, seeing how Master
Lindstrom strove to intercept my view of him. But I was not afraid of
_that_. I had heard long ago--perhaps six months in time, but it
seemed long ago--how bravely Queen Jane had died. And if a girl had
not trembled, surely a man should not. So I looked steadfastly at him,
and took great courage, and after that was able to gaze calmly on the
people, who pressed to stare at me, peeping over the soldiers'
shoulders, and clustering in every doorway and window to see me go
past. They were all silent, and it even seemed to me that some--but
this may have been my fancy--pitied me.
I saw nothing of the Duchess, and might have wondered, had not Master
Lindstrom explained that he had contrived to keep her in ignorance of
the hour fixed for the proceedings. Her husband was better, he said,
and conscious; but, for fear of exciting him, they were keeping the
news from him also. I remember I felt for a moment very sore at this,
and then I tried to persuade myself that it was right.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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