d fly into a passion because Earl Seymour
loves me? Or how?--it is she, perhaps, that you love, and you dare not
therefore let her know that you have sworn your love to me also? Ah,
I now see through it all; I understand it all! You love the queen--her
only. For that reason you will not go to the chapel with me; for that
reason you swore that you would not marry the Duchess of Richmond;
and therefore--oh, my presentiment did not deceive me--therefore that
furious ride in Epping Forest to-day. Ah, the queen's horse must of
course become raving, and run away, that his lordship, the master of
horse, might follow his lady, and with her got lost in the thicket
of the woods!--And now," said she, her eyes flashing with anger, and
raising her hand to heaven as if taking an oath, "now I say to you: Take
heed to yourself! Take heed to yourself, Seymour, that you do not, even
by a single word or a single syllable, betray your secret, for that
word would crush you! Yes, I feel it, that I am no bastard, that I am
my father's own daughter; I feel it in this wrath and this jealousy that
rages within me! Take heed to yourself, Seymour, for I will go hence
and accuse you to the king, and the traitor's head will fall upon the
scaffold!"

She was beside herself. With clenched fists and a threatening air she
paced the room up and down. Tears gushed from her eyes; but she shook
them out of her eyelashes, so that they fell scattering about her like
pearls. Her father's impetuous and untractable nature stirred within
her, and his blood seethed in her veins.

But Thomas Seymour had already regained his self-command and composure.
He approached the princess and despite her struggles clasped her in his
arms.

"Little fool!" said he, between his kisses. "Sweet, dear fool, how
beautiful you are in your anger, and how I love you for it! Jealousy is
becoming to love; and I do not complain, though you are unjust and cruel
toward me. The queen has much too cold and proud a heart ever to be
loved by any man. Ah, only to think this is already treason to her
virtue and modesty; and surely she has not deserved this from us two,
that we should disdain and insult her. She is the first that has always
been just to you; and to me she has ever been only a gracious mistress!"

"It is true," murmured Elizabeth, completely ashamed; "she is a true
friend and mother; and I have her to thank for my present position at
this court."

Then, after a pause, she sai