ho
laugh when the king laughs could I say as much?" And Henry knew she
spoke the truth, both concerning herself and the courtiers.

With downcast eyes she continued: "I suppose, after all, you are
partly right in regard to me; for it was his honor that saved me, not
my own; and if I am not what you called me I have Master Brandon to
thank--not myself."

"We will thank him publicly on Tower Hill, day after to-morrow, at
noon," said the king, with his accustomed delicacy, breaking the news
of Brandon's sentence as abruptly as possible.

With a look of terror in her eyes, Mary screamed: "What! Charles
Brandon.... Tower Hill?... You are going to kill him?"

"I think we will," responded Henry; "it usually has that effect, to
separate the head from the body and quarter the remains to decorate
the four gates. We will take you up to London in a day or two and let
you see his beautiful head on the bridge."

"Behead--quarter--bridge! Lord Jesu!" She could not grasp the thought;
she tried to speak, but the words would not come. In a moment she
became more coherent, and the words rolled from her lips as a mighty
flood tide pours back through the arches of London Bridge.

"You shall not kill him; he is blameless; you do not know. Drive these
gawking fools out of the room, and I will tell you all." The king
ordered the room cleared of everybody but Wolsey, Jane and myself, who
remained at Mary's request. When all were gone, the princess
continued: "Brother, this man is in no way to blame; it is all my
fault--my fault that he loves me; my fault that he tried to run away
to New Spain with me. It may be that I have done wrong and that my
conduct has been unmaidenly, but I could not help it. From the first
time I ever saw him in the lists with you at Windsor there was a
gnawing hunger in my heart beyond my control. I supposed, of course,
that day he would contrive some way to be presented to me...."

"You did?"

"Yes, but he made no effort at all, and when we met he treated me as
if I were an ordinary girl."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"Horrible."

Mary was too intent on her story to heed the sarcasm, and continued:
"That made me all the more interested in him since it showed that he
was different from the wretches who beset you and me with their
flattery, and I soon began to seek him on every occasion. This is an
unmaidenly history I am giving, I know, but it is the truth, and must
be told. I was satisfied at first if I could o