more than one woman in all the world for him.

"The princess."

"Not since I left her at Bristol."

I believed then, and believe now, that this was a point blank
falsehood--a very unusual thing for Brandon--but for some reason
probably necessary in this case.

There was an expression in his face which I could not interpret, but
he wrote, as if carelessly scribbling on a scrap of paper that lay
upon the table, the words, "Be careful," and I took the hint--we were
watched. There is an unpleasant sensation when one feels that he is
watched by unseen eyes, and after talking for awhile on common topics
I left and took a boat for Greenwich.

When I arrived at the palace and saw Mary, what was my surprise to
find her as bright and jubilant as I had left Brandon. She, too,
laughed and sang, and was so happy that she lighted the whole room.
What did it all mean? There was but one explanation; they had met, and
there was some new plan on foot--with a fatal ending. The next failure
would mean death to Brandon, as certainly as the sun rises in the
east. What the plan was I could not guess. With Brandon in the Tower
under guard both day and night, and Mary as closely guarded in the
palace, I could not see any way of escape for either of them, nor how
they could possibly have come together.

Brandon had not told me, I supposed, for fear of being overheard, and
Mary, although she had the opportunity, was equally non-communicative,
so I had recourse to Jane upon the first occasion. She, by the way,
was as blue and sad-faced as Mary was joyous. I asked her if the
princess and Brandon had met, and she sadly said: "I do not know. We
went down to London yesterday, and as we returned stopped at Bridewell
House, where we found the king and Wolsey. The princess left the
room, saying she would return in a few minutes, and then Wolsey went
out, leaving me alone with the king. Mary did not return for half an
hour, and she may have seen Master Brandon during that time. I do not
understand how the meeting could have occurred, but that is the only
time she has been away from me." Here Jane deliberately put her head
on my shoulder and began to weep piteously.

"What is the trouble?" I asked.

She shook her head: "I cannot, dare not tell you."

"Oh! but you must, you must," and I insisted so emphatically that she
at length said:

"The king!"

"The king! God in heaven, Jane, tell me quickly." I had noticed Henry
of late casting glances