owledge of it. The duke then at
once started to Greenwich, where he arrived and sought the king a few
minutes before the time he knew the messenger with Mary's note would
come. The king was soon found, and Buckingham, in apparent anger, told
him that the city authorities refused to deliver Brandon except upon
an order under the king's seal.

Henry and Buckingham were intensely indignant at the conduct of the
scurvy burghers, and an immense amount of self-importance was
displayed and shamefully wasted. This manifestation was at its highest
when the messenger from Newgate arrived with Mary's poor little note
as intended by the duke.

The note was handed to Henry, who read aloud as follows:

"_To Master Charles Brandon_":

"Greeting--Soon you will be at liberty; perhaps ere this is to
your hand. Surely would I not leave you long in prison. I go to
Windsor at once, there to live in the hope that I may see you
speedily.

"MARY."

"What is this?" cried Henry. "My sister writing to Brandon? God's
death! My Lord of Buckingham, the suspicions you whispered in my ear
may have some truth. We will let this fellow remain in Newgate, and
allow our good people of London to take their own course with him."

Buckingham went to Windsor next day and told Mary that arrangements
had been made the night before for Brandon's escape, and that he had
heard that Brandon had left for New Spain.

Mary thanked the duke, but had no smiles for any one. Her supply was
exhausted.

She remained at Windsor nursing her love for the sake of the very pain
it brought her, and dreading the battle for more than life itself
which she knew she should soon be called upon to fight.

At times she would fall into one of her old fits of anger because
Brandon had not come to see her before he left, but soon the anger
melted into tears, and the tears brought a sort of joy when she
thought that he had run away from her because he loved her. After
Brandon's defense of her in Billingsgate, Mary had begun to see the
whole situation differently, and everything was changed. She still saw
the same great distance between them as before, but with this
difference, she was looking up now. Before that event he had been
plain Charles Brandon, and she the Princess Mary. She was the princess
still, but he was a demi-god. No mere mortal, thought she, could be so
brave and strong and generous and wise; and above all, no mere mortal
could vanquish odds of fou