to make the blood quicken in her veins. But her thoughts circled swiftly back to her justifications. Henry had been willing to accept her as wife for a particular result an heir for England. It had failed and Catherine would now never realize that hope. If such had been the case when he married her he could have put her away at once; why then, not now? Catherine had staked herself upon a chance which had gone against her- she should take the fortunes of war with a positive gratitude for the generous terms of her dismissal, instead of haggling wretchedly for the validity of that dispensation! It pierced Anne's consciousness that she was playing a strangely significant part in England's history; she had precipitated a crisis, political, religious, whose far-reaching effects she could not begin to foresee. There were large things at stake the right of trial of English cases by English courts, the lessening of the papal grasp. A perception flittered vaguely across her of being a tool in the hands of forces greater than she divined, forces waging a persistent and inevitable war . . . the perception faded and she saw herself, from a different angle of vision, as a person of deep importance, of vast potential power. What could she not do, she who had England's king at her beck and call! There came to her a larger vision of the possibilities of her position than she had at first conceived of and she saw herself abolishing abuses, protecting heretics, encouraging education and all true feeling in religion. By morning, when sleep at last came to her, she had forgotten in her enthusiasm for the good that her reign. would bring, the immédiate devastation of the discarded woman, kneeling before the husband of twenty years. CHAPTER XVIII THE LAW'S DELAYS HE tedious delays which made the case drag on interminably through June and through July had daily tightened that knot of tension in Anne's breast, and deepened the weight of her secret burden of foreboding. There was the pope's written word to let these legates decide and there was the secret decretal defining a favorable law; it was incredible that Clement would recede from all he had promised England, but yet - but yet So that when Anne saw the king's face, as he burst in the door of her apartments on the day set for concluding the trial, although her heart gave a terrible, sick drop of dismay, she had nevertheless a cold sense of having all along expected this very thing and her manner was strangely quiet. "It is against us?" she asked, white to the lips. "It is nothing!" Henry answered with a roar of anger. "It is nothing-nothing-nothing! No sentence at all is given the court is prorogued prorogued to October because that is the custom of the courts at Rome!" His fury was immense. The veins swelled in his neck, his skin burned, his lips curled back over his teeth in the snarl of an infuriated beast as he poured out an astounding stream of profanity and invective. Anne put her cold hand calmingly in his; it was at least better than the opposing judgment her worst fears had anticipated. "Tell me all," she asked. Suffolk, red-faced with anger, had followed in his brother-in-law's wake, and they told her, roundly cursing as they revived the scene, how when the king's proctor had demanded sentence, Campeggio had arisen and in smooth Latin announced that the court was prorogued, for it was then the time of vacation in Rome and there would be no further sitting till October. "Wolsey sitting grinning by," flung out Suffolk, which was not a truth, for Wolsey's features had worn a masklike fixity, "and I struck the table a slap under his hawk's nose and let fly, 'Now I see the old-said saw is true, that there was never legate nor cardinal that did good in England!'" 66 How answered he?" demanded Henry. "I left Suffolk's red face grew a shade redder though he shrugged with immense disdain. "That I was not the one to say it." At another, less furious, moment Henry might have grinned at the aptness of the reminder, for long ago, when Charles Brandon had rashly eloped with the king's sister, on the death of her French husband, making her his third, or perchance his fourth wife- none were quite sure! it had indeed been Wolsey who had made peace between Suffolk and his angry king, and again, later, when Suffolk had disbanded the army without leave, Henry's rage might have cost him his head but for the cardinal's intervention, but the king was in no mood now to join with Wolsey in these reminders of benefits forgot. "His damned arrogance!" Suffolk was uttering between his teeth. "The butcher's son - to toss that in my face! He hath outwitted us - 66 66 October," Anne was desolately repeating. "October!" Henry ground out. There will be a new trick turned ere then. I see that Clement means to fail me." "Well, Suffolk suddenly stopped his angry growling. sire, I will out and see what is being done. I leave you in fair hands," a half smile touched his surly face as he glanced at Anne-"belike you be in better mood when we meet. For me there is no such solace.” 66 And yet my solace is my torment," Henry muttered, with a look at the girl he had hoped to make his wife ere that October came. "Oh, to be flouted so!" he burst out as the door shut upon the duke. "To be cheated by those lying Italians —" "Italians?" mocked Anne, with ironic emphasis. "Oh, never say Wolsey to me again!" Suddenly Henry crossed the room and caught the girl in a grip of rough passion. 66 -- 'They cannot balk me of all, Anne," he said hoarsely. "They cannot cheat me of thee, if thou art indeed mine own. I am sick unto death of nays and coldness some, be mine. Be mine and end this torment of delay!" Aye, end it an thou wilt," she cried, and the ringing challenge of her voice roused wonder and stayed his clasp. 66 66 66 66 Marry me!" she flashed imperiously at him. An thou couldst! If you and Catherine are not wed what is to let? Is there no priest in England bold enough to do his master's will?" Backwards in the circle of his arms she leaned, her uplifted face blazing its reckless challenge into his. "Art Hal of England or Clement's man?" she taunted. For an instant his eyes caught fire from hers but the straw flame flickered and she saw gray calculation fog his gaze. ""Tis a matter of state- - the time is out of joint "Marry me!" she flung insistently into his hesitant mutterings, and again, “ Marry me," she breathed, drawing closer, her back-tipped face a lure for love. "I will," he groaned, "so thou but love me now. At the first chance . . . when this hot outcry has cooled." Like a whirlwind she was out of his arms and away from him. "When and by-and-by and at the first chance," she derided in mocking fury. "Oh, God give me patience to wait till my hairs are gray! Troth I need it with such a lag o' love as thou! .. Where are thy vows now? Anne, I will crown thee · Anne, I will make thee queen!"" she mouthed back at him. "And what hast thou done? . . . I am the laughter of the court. I am held for thy light of love-" 66 So would you be in truth an your heart were indeed mine," he tossed back, smarting. 66 So now you throw my virtue in my teeth! Were I otherwise I'd not be worth the wiving!. Well, I am done with all this. I know enough from more. I am wasting my youth and my fame in a wild. goose chase but now I stop. I leave the court, I give up all pretensions to your Too-High and Mighty Majesty and cleave unto my own low estate where I pray you let me rest. This is the end for us." "Touch me not. I am not thy betrothed." “Unsay that, Anne, unsay that. I will not give thee |