When Knighthood Was in Flower

by Charles Major

  _CHAPTER XII_

  _Atonement_

  I had not been long in the room when a knock at the door announced thegirls. I admitted them, and Mary walked to the middle of the floor. Itwas just growing dark and the room was quite dim, save at the windowwhere Brandon sat reading. Gods! those were exciting moments; my heartbeat like a woman's. Brandon saw the girls when they entered, butnever so much as looked up from his book. You must remember he had agreat grievance. Even looking at it from Mary's side of the case,certainly its best point of view, he had been terribly misused, and itwas all the worse that the misuse had come from one who, from hisstandpoint, had _pretended_ to love him, and had wantonly led him on,as he had the best of right to think, to love her, and to suffer thekeenest pangs a heart can know. Then you must remember he did not knoweven the best side of the matter, bad as it was, but saw only thenaked fact, that in recompense for his great help in time of need,Mary had deliberately allowed him to lie in that dungeon a long,miserable month, and would have suffered him to die. So it was nowonder his heart was filled with bitterness toward her. Jane and I hadremained near the door, and poor Mary was a pitiable princess,standing there so full of doubt in the middle of the room. After amoment she stepped toward the window, and, with quick-coming breath,stopped at the threshold of the little passage.

  "Master Brandon, I have come, not to make excuses, for nothing canexcuse me, but to tell you how it all happened--by trusting toanother."

  Brandon arose, and marking the place in his book with his finger,followed Mary, who had stepped backward into the room.

  "Your highness is very gracious and kind thus to honor me, but as ourways will hereafter lie as far apart as the world is broad, I think itwould have been far better had you refrained from so imprudent avisit; especially as anything one so exalted as yourself may have tosay can be no affair of such as I--one just free of the hangman'snoose."

  "Oh! don't! I pray you. Let me tell you, and it may make a difference.It must pain you, I know, to think of me as you do, after--after--youknow; after what has passed between us."

  "Yes, that only makes it all the harder. If you could give yourkisses"--and she blushed red as blood--"to one for whom you care solittle that you could leave him to die like a dog, when a word fromyou would have saved him, what reason have I to suppose they are notfor every man?"

  This gave Mary an opening of which she was quick enough to takeadvantage, for Brandon was in the wrong.

  "You know that is not true. You are not honest with me nor withyourself, and that is not like you. You know that no other man everhad, or could have, any favor from me, even the slightest. Wantonnessis not among my thousand faults. It is not that which angers you. Youare sure enough of me in that respect. In truth, I had almost come tobelieve you were too sure, that I had grown cheap in your eyes, andyou did not care so much as I thought and hoped for what I had togive, for after that day you came not near me at all. I know it wasthe part of wisdom and prudence that you should remain away; but hadyou cared as much as I, your prudence would not have held you."

  She hung her head a moment in silence; then, looking at him, almostready for tears, continued: "A man has no right to speak in that wayof a woman whose little favors he has taken, and make her regret thatshe has given a gift only that it may recoil upon her. 'Little,' did Isay? Sir, do you know what that--first--kiss was to me? Had Ipossessed all the crowns of all the earth I would have given them toyou as willingly. Now you know the value I placed on it, howeverworthless it was to you. Yet I was a cheerful giver of that greatgift, was I not? And can you find it in your heart to make of it ashame to me--that of which I was so proud?"

  She stood there with head inclined a little to one side, looking athim inquiringly as if awaiting an answer. He did not speak, but lookedsteadily at his book. I felt, however, that he was changing, and I wassure her beauty, never more exquisite than in its present humility,would yet atone for even so great a fault as hers. Err, lookbeautiful, and receive remission! Such a woman as Mary carries herindulgence in her face.

  I now began to realize for the first time the wondrous power of thisgirl, and ceased to marvel that she had always been able to turn eventhe king, the most violent, stubborn man on earth, to her own wishes.Her manner made her words eloquent, and already, with true femininetactics, she had put Brandon in the wrong in everything because he waswrong in part.

  Then she quickly went over what she had said to me. She told of hergreat dread lest the king should learn of the visit to Grouche's andits fatal consequences, knowing full well it would render Henryimpervious to her influence and precipitate the French marriage. Shetold him of how she was going to the king the day after the arrest toask his release, and of the meeting with Buckingham, and his promise.

  Still Brandon said nothing, and stood as if politely waiting for herto withdraw.

  She remained silent a little time, waiting for him to speak, whentears, partly of vexation, I think, moistened her eyes.

  "Tell me at least," she said, "that you know I speak the truth. I havealways believed in you, and now I ask for your faith. I would not lieto you in the faintest shading of a thought--not for heavenitself--not even for your love and forgiveness, much as they are tome, and I want to know that you are sure of my truthfulness, if youdoubt all else. You see I speak plainly of what your love is to me,for although, by remaining away, you made me fear I had been toolavish with my favors--that is every woman's fear--I knew in my heartyou loved me; that you could not have done and said what you didotherwise. Now you see what faith I have in you, and you a man, whom awoman's instinct prompts to doubt. How does it compare with your faithin me, a woman, whom all the instincts of a manly nature shoulddispose to trust? It seems to be an unwritten law that a man may lieto a woman concerning the most important thing in life to her, and beproud of it, but you see even now I have all faith in your love forme, else I surely should not be here. You see I trust even yourunspoken word, when it might, without much blame to you, be a spokenlie; yet you do not trust me, who have no world-given right to speakfalsely about such things, and when that which I now do is full ofshame for me, and what I have done full of guilt, if inspired by aughtbut the purest truth from my heart of hearts. Your words mean somuch--so much more, I think, than you realize--and are so cruel inturning to evil the highest, purest impulse a woman can feel--theglowing pride in self-surrender, and the sweet, delightful privilegeof giving where she loves. How can you? How can you?"

  How eloquent she was! It seemed to me this would have melted thefrozen sea, but I think Brandon felt that now his only hope lay in thesafeguard of his constantly upheld indignation.

  When he spoke he ignored all she had said.

  "You did well to employ my Lord of Buckingham. It will make mattersmore interesting when I tell you it was he who attacked you and wascaught by the leg under his wounded horse; he was lame, I am told, forsome time afterward. I had watched him following you from the gate atBridewell, and at once recognized him when his mask fell off duringthe fight by the wall. You have done well at every step, I see."

  "Oh, God; to think of it! Had I but known! Buckingham shall pay forthis with his head; but how could I know? I was but a poor, distractedgirl, sure to make some fatal error. I was in such agony--yourwounds--believe me, I suffered more from them than you could. Everypain you felt was a pang for me--and then that awful marriage! I wasbeing sold like a wretched slave to that old satyr, to be gloated overand feasted upon. No man can know the horror of that thought to awoman--to any woman, good or bad. To have one's beauty turn to curseher and make her desirable only--only as well-fed cattle are prized. Nomatter how great the manifestation of such so-called love, it all themore repels a woman and adds to her loathing day by day. Then there wassomething worse than all,"--she was almost weeping now--"I might havebeen able to bear the thought even of that hideous marriage--othershave lived through the like--but--but after--that--that day--whenyou--it seemed that your touch was a spark dropped into a heart full oftinder, whi
ch had been lying there awaiting it all these years. In thatone moment the flame grew so intense I could not withstand it. Mythroat ached; I could scarcely breathe, and it seemed that my heartwould burst." Here the tears gushed forth as she took a step toward himwith outstretched arms, and said between her sobs: "I wanted you, you!for my husband--for my husband, and I could not bear the torturingthought of losing you or enduring any other man. I could not give youup after that--it was all too late, too late; it had gone too far. Iwas lost! lost!"

  He sprang to where she stood leaning toward him, and caught her to hisbreast.

  She held him from her while she said: "Now you know--now you know thatI would not have left you in that terrible place, had I known it. No,not if it had taken my life to buy your freedom."

  "I do know; I do know. Be sure of that; I know it and shall know italways, whatever happens; nothing can change me. I will never doubtyou again. It is my turn to ask forgiveness now."

  "No, no; just forgive me; that is all I ask," and her head was on hisbreast.

  "Let us step out into the passage-way, Edwin," said Jane, and we did.There were times when Jane seemed to be inspired.

  When we went back into the room Mary and Brandon were sitting in thewindow-way on his great cloak. They rose and came to us, holding eachother's hands, and Mary asked, looking up to him:

  "Shall we tell them?"

  "As you like, my lady."

  Mary was willing, and looked for Brandon to speak, so he said: "Thislady whom I hold by the hand and myself have promised each otherbefore the good God to be husband and wife, if fortune ever so favorus that it be possible."

  "No, that is not it," interrupted Mary. "There is no 'if' in it; itshall be, whether it is possible or not. Nothing shall prevent." Atthis she kissed Jane and told her how she loved her, and gave me herhand, for her love was so great within her that it overflowed uponevery one. She, however, always had a plenitude of love for Jane, andthough she might scold her and apparently misuse her, Jane was as dearas a sister, and was always sure of her steadfast, tried and lastingaffection.

  After Mary had said there should be no "if," Brandon replied:

  "Very well, Madame Destiny." Then turning to us: "What ought I to dofor one who is willing to stoop from so high an estate to honor me andbe my wife?"

  "Love her, and her alone, with your whole heart, as long as you live.That is all she wants, I am sure," volunteered Jane, sentimentally.

  "Jane, you are a Madam Solomon," said Mary, with a tone of herold-time laugh. "Is the course you advise as you would wish to be doneby?" And she glanced mischievously from Jane to me, as the laughbubbled up from her heart, merry and soft as if it had not come fromwhat was but now the home of grief and pain.

  "I know nothing about how I should like to be done by," said Jane,with a pout, "but if you have such respect for my wisdom I will offera little more; I think it is time we should be going."

  "Now, Jane, you are growing foolish again; I will not go yet," andMary made manifest her intention by sitting down. She could not bringherself to forego the pleasure of staying, dangerous as she knew it tobe, and could not bear the pain of parting, even for a short time, nowthat she had Brandon once more. The time was soon coming--but I am toofast again.

  After a time Brandon said: "I think Jane's wisdom remains with her,Mary. It is better that you do not stay, much as I wish to have you."

  She was ready to obey him at once.

  When she arose to go she took both his hands in hers and whispered:"'Mary.' I like the name on your lips," and then glancing hurriedlyover her shoulder to see if Jane and I were looking, lifted her faceto him and ran after us.

  We were a little in advance of the princess, and, as we walked along,Jane said under her breath: "Now look out for trouble; it will comequickly, and I fear for Master Brandon more than any one. He has madea noble fight against her and against himself, and it is no wonder sheloves him."

  This made me feel a little jealous.

  "Jane, you could not love him, could you?" I asked.

  "No matter what I could do, Edwin; I do not, and that should satisfyyou." Her voice and manner said more than her words. The hall wasalmost dark, and--I have always considered that occasion one of mylost opportunities; but they are not many.

  The next evening Brandon and I, upon Lady Mary's invitation, went upto her apartments, but did not stay long, fearing some one might findus there and cause trouble. We would not have gone at all had not thewhole court been absent in London, for discovery would have been aserious matter to one of us at least.

  As I told you once before, Henry did not care how much Brandon mightlove his sister, but Buckingham had whispered suspicions of the stateof Mary's heart, and his own observations, together with theintercepted note, had given these suspicions a stronger coloring, sothat a very small matter might turn them into certainties.

  The king had pardoned Brandon for the killing of the two men inBillingsgate, as he was forced to do under the circumstances, butthere his kindness stopped. After a short time he deprived him of hisplace at court, and all that was left for him of royal favor waspermission to remain with me and live at the palace until such time ashe should sail for New Spain.