If Mary, before her interview with Henry, had been averse to the French marriage, she was now equally anxious to hurry it on, and longed to go upon the rack in order that Brandon might be free. He, of course, objected as strenuously as possible to the purchase of his life by her marriage to Louis, but his better judgment told him--in fact, had told him from the first--that she would be compelled eventually to marry the French king, and common sense told him if it must be, she might as well save his life at the same time.

Furthermore, he felt a certain sense of delight in owing his life to her, and knew that the fact that she had saved him--that her sacrifice had not all been in vain--would make it easier for her to bear.

The most beautiful feature of the relations between these two lovers was their entire faith in each other. The way of their true love was at least not roughened by cobble-stones of doubt, however impa.s.sable it was from mountains of opposition.

My inability to deliver Mary's letters did not deter her from writing them; and as she was to be married in a few days--de Longueville to act as proxy--she devoted her entire time to her letters, and wrote pages upon pages, which she left with me to be delivered "after death," as she called her marriage.

At this time I was called away from court for a day or two, and when I returned and called upon Brandon at the Tower, I found him whistling and singing, apparently as happy as a lark. "You heartless dog,"

thought I, at first; but I soon found that he felt more than happiness--exaltation.

"Have you seen her?" I asked.

"Who?" As if there were 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 sc.r.a.p 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! G.o.d in heaven, Jane, tell me quickly." I had noticed Henry of late casting glances at my beautiful little Jane, and had seen him try to kiss her a few days before, as I have told you. This annoyed me very much, but I thought little of it, as it was his habit to ogle every pretty face. When urged, Jane said between her sobs: "He tried to kiss me and to--mistreat me when Wolsey left the room at Bridewell House. I may have been used to detain him, while Mary met Master Brandon, but if so, I am sure she knew nothing of it."

"And what did you do?"

"I struggled away from him and s.n.a.t.c.hed this dagger from my breast, telling him that if he took but one step toward me I would plunge it in my heart; and he said I was a fool."

"G.o.d keep you always a fool," said I, prayerfully. "How long has this been going on?"

"A month or two; but I have always been able to run away from him. He has been growing more importunate of late, so I bought a dagger that very day, and had it not one hour too soon." With this she drew out a gleaming little weapon that flashed in the rays of the candle.

This was trouble in earnest for me, and I showed it very plainly. Then Jane timidly put her hand in mine, for the first time in her life, and murmured:

"We will be married, Edwin, if you wish, before we return from France." She was glad to fly to me to save herself from Henry, and I was glad even to be the lesser of two evils.

As to whether my two friends met or not that day at Bridewell I cannot say; but I think they did. They had in some way come to an understanding that lightened both their hearts before Mary left for France, and this had been their only possible opportunity. Jane and I were always taken into their confidence on other occasions, but as to this meeting, if any there was, we have never been told a word. My belief is that the meeting was contrived by Wolsey upon a solemn promise from Brandon and Mary never to reveal it, and if so, they have sacredly kept their word.

On the 13th of August, 1514, Mary Tudor, with her golden hair falling over her shoulders, was married at Greenwich to Louis de Valois; de Longueville acting as his French majesty's proxy. Poor, fair Proserpina!...

Note.--Maidens only were married with their hair down. It was "the sacred token of maidenhood."--Editor.

_CHAPTER XX_

_Down into France_

So it came to pa.s.s that Mary was married unto Louis and went down into France.

[Again the editor takes the liberty of subst.i.tuting Hall's quaint account of Mary's journey to France.]

Then when all things were redy for the conueyaunce of this n.o.ble Ladye, the kyng her brother in the moneth of Auguste, and the xV daye, with the quene his wife and his sayde sister and al the court came to Douer and there taryed, for the wynde was troblous and the wether fowle, in so muche that shippe of the kynges called the Libeck of IXC. tonne was dryuen a sh.o.r.e before Sangate and there brase & of VI C. men scantely escaped iiiC and yet the most part of them were hurt with the wrecke. When the wether was fayre, then al her wardrobe, stable, and riches was shipped, and such as were appoyncted to geue their attendaunce on her as the duke of Norfolke, the Marques of Dorset, the Bysshop of Durham, the Earle of Surrey, the lorde Delawar, sir Thomas Bulleyn and many other knights, Squyers, getlemen & ladies, al these went to shippe and the sayde ladye toke her leaue of the quene in the castell of Douer, and the king brought her to the sea syde, and kissed her, and betoke her to G.o.d and the fortune of the see and to the gouernaunce of the French king her husband. Thus at the hower of foure of the clock in the morenynge thys fayre ladye toke her shippe with al her n.o.ble compaignie: and when they had sayled a quarter of the see, the wynde rose and seuered some of the shippes to Cayles, and some in Flaunders and her shippe with greate difficultie to Bulleyn, and with greate ieopardy at the entrying of the hauen, for the master ran the shippe hard on sh.o.r.e, but the botes were redy and receyued this n.o.ble ladye, and at the landyng Sir Christopher Garnysha stode in the water and toke her in his armes, and so caryed her to land, where the Duke of Vandosme and a Cardynall with many estates receyued her, and her ladies, and welcommed all the n.o.ble men into the countrey, and so the quene and all her trayne came to Bulleyn and ther rested, and from thence she remoued by dyuerse lodgynges tyll she came all most within iii miles of Abuyle besyde the forrest of Arders, and ther kynge Loyes vppon a greate courser met her, (which he so longe desired) but she toke her way righte on, not stopping to conurse.

Then he returned to Abuyle by a secret waye, & she was with greate triumphe, procession & pagiantes receyued into the toune of Abuyle the VIII day of October by the Dolphin, which receyued her with greate honor. She was appeareilled in cloth of siluer, her horse was trapped in goldsmythes work very rychly. After her followed x.x.xvi ladies al ther palfreys trapped with crymsyn veluet, embraudered: after the folowed one charyott of cloth of tyssue, the seconde clothe of golde and the third Crymsyn veluet embraudered with the kynges armes & hers, full of roses. After them folowed a greate nomber of archers and then wagons laden with their stuf. Greate was the riches in plate, iuels, money, and hangynges that this ladye brought into France. The Moday beyng the daye of Sayncte Denyce, the same kynge Leyes maried the lady Mary in the greate church of Abuyle, bothe appareled in goldesmythes woorke. After the ma.s.se was done ther was a greate banket and fest and the ladyes of England highly entreteyned.

The Tewesdaye beyng the x daye of October all the Englishmen except a fewe that wer officers with the sayde quene were discharged whiche was a greate sorowe for theim, for some had serued her longe in the hope of preferment and some that had honest romes left them to serue her and now they wer out of seruice, which caused the to take thought in so much, some dyed by way returning, and some fell mad, but ther was no remedy. After the English lordes had done ther commission the French kynge wylled the to take no lenger payne & so gaue to theim good rewardes and they toke ther leaue of the quene and returned.

Then the Dolphyn of Fraunce called Frauncys duke of Valoys, or Fraunceys d'Angouleme, caused a solempne iustes to be proclaymed, which shoulde be kept in Parys in the moneth of Noueber next ensuyng, and while al these thinges were prepearyng, the Ladye Mary, the V. daye of Noueber, then beying Sondaye was with greate solempnitee crowned Queen of Fraunce in the monasterye of Saynct Denyce, and the Lorde Dolphyn, who was young, but very toward, al the season held the crowune ouer her hed, because it was of greate waight, to her greuaunce.

Madame Mary took her time, since a more deliberate journey bride never made to waiting bride-groom. She was a study during this whole period--weeping and angry by turns. She, who had never known a moment's illness in all her days, took to her bed upon two occasions from sheer antipathetic nervousness, and would rest her head upon Jane's breast and cry out little, half-articulate prayers to G.o.d that she might not kill the man who was her husband, when they should meet.

When we met the king about a league this side of Abbeville, and when Mary beheld him with the shadow of death upon his brow, she took hope, for she knew he would be but putty in her hands, so manifestly weak was he, mentally and physically. As he came up she whipped her horse and rode by him at a gallop, sending me back with word that he must not be so ardent; that he frightened her, poor, timid little thing, so afraid of--nothing in the world. This shocked the French courtiers, and one would think would have offended Louis, but he simply grinned from ear to ear, showing his yellow fangs, and said whimperingly: "Oh, the game is worth the trouble. Tell her majesty I wait at Abbeville."

The old king had ridden a horse to meet his bride in order that he might appear more gallant before her, but a litter was waiting to take him back to Abbeville by a shorter route, and they were married again in person.

[Again a quotation from Hall is subst.i.tuted]:

Mondaye the .vi daye of Noueber, ther the sayde quene was receyued into the cytee of Parys after the order thar foloweth. First the garde of the cytee met her with oute Sayncte Denyce al in coates of goldsmythes woorke with shippes gylt, and after them mett her al the prestes and religious whiche were estemed to be. iiiM. The quene was in a chyre coured about (but not her ouer person) in white clothe of golde, the horses that drewe it couered in clothe of golde, on her bed a coronall, al of greate perles, her necke and brest full of Iuels, before her wente a garde of Almaynes after ther fascion, and after them al n.o.blemen, as the Dolphyn, the Duke of Burbon, Cardynalles, and a greate nomber of estates.

Aboute her person rode the kynge's garde the whiche wer Scottes.

On the morowe bega the iustes, and the quene stode so that al men might see her, and wonder at her beautie, and the kynge was feble and lay on a couche for weakenes.

So Mary was twice married to Louis, and, although she was his queen fast and sure enough, she was not his wife.

You may say what you will, but I like a fighting woman; one with a touch of the savage in her when the occasion arises; one who can fight for what she loves as well as against what she hates. She usually loves as she fights--with all her heart.

So Mary was crowned, and was now a queen, hedged about by the tinseled divinity that hedgeth royalty.

It seemed that she was climbing higher and higher all the time from Brandon, but in her heart every day she was brought nearer to him.

There was one thing that troubled her greatly, and all the time. Henry had given his word that Brandon should be liberated as soon as Mary had left the sh.o.r.es of England, but we had heard nothing of this matter, although we had received several letters from home. A doubt of her brother, in whom she had little faith at best, made an ache at her heart, which seemed at times likely to break it--so she said. One night she dreamed that she had witnessed Brandon's execution, her brother standing by in excellent humor at the prank he was playing her, and it so worked upon her waking hours that by evening she was ill. At last I received a letter from Brandon--which had been delayed along the road--containing one for Mary. It told of his full pardon and restoration to favor, greater even than before; and her joy was so sweet and quiet, and yet so softly delirious, that I tell you plainly it brought tears to my eyes and I could not hold them back.

The marriage, when once determined upon, had not cast her down nearly so deep as I had expected, and soon she grew to be quite cheerful and happy. This filled me with regret, for I thought of how Brandon must suffer, and felt that her heart was a poor, flimsy thing to take this trouble so lightly.

I spoke to Jane about it, but she only laughed. "Mary is all right,"