oath; I have not given her mine
in return. And when I vowed never to marry the Duchess of Richmond; when
I swore this 'by my love,' then I thought only of Catharine--of that
proud, beautiful, charming woman, at once maidenly and voluptuous;
but not of this young, inexperienced, wild child--of this unattractive
little princess!"

"But the princess may one day become a queen," whispered his ambition.

"That, however, is very doubtful," replied he to himself. "But it is
certain that Catharine will one day be the regent, and if I am at that
time her husband, then I am Regent of England."

This was the secret of his duplicity and his double treachery. Thomas
Seymour loved nothing but himself, nothing but his ambition. He was
capable of risking his life for a woman; but for renown and greatness he
would have gladly sacrificed this woman.

For him there was only one aim, one struggle: to be come great and
powerful above all the nobles of the kingdom--to be the first man in
England. And to reach this aim, he would be afraid of no means; he would
shrink from no treachery and no sin.

Like the disciples of Loyola, he said, in justification of himself, "the
end sanctifies the means."

And thus for him every means was right which conducted him to the end;
that is to say, to greatness and glory.

He was firmly convinced that he loved the queen ardently; and in his
nobler hours he did really love her. Depending on the moment, a son of
the hour, in him feeling and will varied with the rapidity of lightning,
and he ever was wholly and completely that with which the moment
inflamed him.

When, therefore, he stood before the queen, he did not lie when he swore
that he loved her passionately. He really loved her, with double warmth,
since she had to his mind in some sort identified herself with his
ambition. He adored her, because she was the means that might conduct
him to his end; because she might some day hold in her hands the sceptre
of England. And on the day when this came to pass, he wished to be
her lover and her lord. She had accepted him as her lord, and he was
entirely certain of his future sway.

Consequently he loved the queen, but his proud and ambitious heart could
never be so completely animated by one love as that there should not
be room in it for a second, provided this second love presented him a
favorable chance for the attainment of the aim of his life.

Princess Elizabeth had this chance. And if the que