CHAPTER XXXII
A BARGAIN
But Mary would not have been the woman she was if she admitted afailure, whilst there was still a chance of victory.
The first half-hour after Wessex' departure she gave way to weakness andto a flood of tears, she turned to her prie-Dieu and prayed ferventlyfor resignation to the heavenly will, for strength to bear her cross.
"Holy Mother of our crucified Lord, pray for me now and at the hour of_his_ death," was the burden of her passionate orisons.
"Take my life since _he_ must die," she added, striking her breast andfalling prostrate before the holy images.
And then reaction set in. She felt more calm after her prayers, andbegan to think more clearly. The inevitableness of a catastrophe seemedto become less tangible, a persistent and hopeful "if" crept in amongsther desperate litanies. She dried her tears, rang for her waiting-woman,had her face bathed with soothing, scented waters, her temples rubbedwith perfumed vinegar.
All the while now she repeated to herself--
"I _will_ save him . . . I _will_ save him . . . but how? . . . how?"
She had less than twenty-four hours in which to do it, and she had spentfourteen days previously in the same endeavour, without arriving at anydefinite plan, save the one which had so signally failed just now.
"If being found guilty I were acquitted at Your Majesty's desire,'twould be said the Queen had saved her lover--and then married afelon!" was his sole reply to her impassioned query whether he loved herand would be saved by her command.
She would have been content to lose her honour for his sake, he wouldnot even jeopardize his own self-esteem for hers. If he had one spark oflove for her he would have been content to challenge the opinion of theworld, whilst accepting his life at her hands, but he cared naught aboutdeath, and all the world for another woman who was false, a coward, awanton, and who boldly allowed him to sacrifice his honour for her,whilst she herself had none to lose.
"Then I will save him in spite of himself," repeated Mary for thehundredth time.
Suddenly a thought struck her. She rang her hand-bell, and to theservitor who appeared at the door she commanded briefly--
"His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno;--I desire his presence here atonce."
The servitor retired, and she waited in seeming calm, sitting at herdesk, her trembling hand alone betraying the excitement of her mind.
Five minutes later, the Cardinal stood before her, placid, urbane,picturesque in his brilliant, flowing robes, with one white, richlybe-ringed hand raised in benediction, as he stood waiting for the Queento speak.
"I pray Your Eminence to be seated," began Mary, speaking with feverishhaste. "I have something of grave import to say to you, which brooks ofno delay, else I had not interrupted you at your orisons."
"My time is ever at Your Majesty's service," replied the Cardinalhumbly. "In what way may I have the honour to serve the Queen of Englandto-day?"
He was looking keenly at her face: not a single sign of her intensemental agitation escaped his shrewd observation. A satisfied smilelurked round the corners of his thin lips, and a flash of triumph lit upthe depths of his piercing eyes.
That searching glance at Mary Tudor had told the envoy of the King ofSpain that victory was at last within his grasp.
"My lord Cardinal," rejoined Mary firmly, "you are aware of the factthat His Grace of Wessex is on the eve of being tried by his peers, fora heinous crime of which he is innocent."
"I am aware," replied the Cardinal gently, "that His Grace standsself-convicted of the murder of my friend and colleague Don Miguel,Marquis de Suarez, a guest at Your Majesty's Court."
"Truce on this folly, my lord," retorted Mary impatiently, "you knowjust as well as I do, that His Grace is incapable of any such act ofcowardice, and that some mystery, which no one can fathom, lies at thebottom of this monstrous self-accusation."
"Whatever may be my own feelings in this matter, Your Majesty," said HisEminence, still speaking very guardedly, "I was forced to accomplish myduty, when I made and signed my deposition, which I fear me has gone fartowards confirming the guilt of His Grace."
"I have heard of your deposition, my lord. It rests on your finding HisGrace's dagger. . . ."
"Beside the body of the murdered man, and still stained with DonMiguel's blood."
"What of that? Some one else must have used the dagger."
"Possibly."
"You did not suggest this in your deposition."
"It was not asked of me by His Grace's judges."
"There is time to make a further statement."
"It could but be in consonance with what I have already said."
"And your servant?"
"Pasquale?"
"He lied when he averred that he heard angry words 'twixt His Grace andDon Miguel."
"He has sworn it upon oath. Pasquale is a good Catholic, and would notcommit the deadly sin of perjury."
"You are fencing with me, my lord," said Mary Tudor with suddenvehemence.
"I but await Your Majesty's command!" rejoined His Eminence blandly.
"My command?" she said firmly. "This, my lord, that you save His Graceof Wessex from the consequences of this crime, in which he had no hand."
"To save His Grace of Wessex?" he ejaculated with the greatestastonishment, "I? and at this eleventh hour? Nay! meseems that wereimpossible."
"Then Your Eminence can set your wits to attempt the impossible,"rejoined Mary curtly.
"But why should Your Majesty suggest this strange task to me?" he urgedwith the same well-feigned surprise.
"Because Your Eminence hath more brains than most."
"Your Majesty is too gracious."
"And because you have the success of your own schemes more at heart thanmost," added the Queen significantly.
"Then, if I do not succeed in effecting the impossible, Your Majesty, amI to be sent back to Spain ignominiously to-morrow?" queried theCardinal with more than a soupcon of sarcasm.
"No!" rejoined Mary quietly, "but if you succeed I will give you inreward anything which you may ask."
"Anything, my daughter? Even your hand in marriage to King Philip ofSpain?"
"If Your Eminence succeeds in effecting the impossible," replied Maryfirmly, "I will marry King Philip of Spain."
There was silence for a moment or two. His Eminence was meditating. Notthat he had been taken unawares. For the past fortnight he had beenexpecting some such interview as the Queen had now demanded at theeleventh hour. He was far-seeing and shrewd enough to have anticipatedthat, sooner or later, Mary Tudor would propose a bargain, whereby hewould be expected to pit his wits against Fate, and thereby earn thevictory which she knew he coveted. The task was a difficult one; notimpossible--for the Cardinal never admitted that anything wasimpossible. But he was peculiarly placed, and he knew the value of royalpromises and of royal compacts. This one he thought he could enforce,but only if his methods were above suspicion. To have confessed thewhole dastardly intrigue of that eventful night would certainly havesaved the Duke from condemnation, but the tale itself would so disgustthese stiff-necked Britishers, that Mary would see herself easilyreleased from her promise through unanimous public opinion.
That simple and sure method of obtaining the Duke's acquittal wastherefore barred to him, and he had perforce to reflect seriously, erehe closed with the bargain which Mary Tudor held so temptingly beforehim. His mind was clearer, less scrupulous than that of his colleagues,and he had most at stake now, for nothing but ultimate success couldjustify the heinousness of his methods. If his schemes failed, thenthese methods became monstrous and criminal beyond hope of pardon.
For the moment the Cardinal had no remorse. The sacrifice of every piecein the great human game of chess was of no importance if the finalmating of his enemies were gained. Don Miguel was dead, Lord Everinghamfar away; the wench Mirrab, terrified at her own act probably, haddisappeared and no doubt would not be heard of again until HisEminence's victory
was assured. This he had hoped to attain with thedeath of the Duke of Wessex and Mary's consequent grief and feeblenessof will, always supposing that Lord Everingham did not return in time toruin the whole scaffolding of his tortuous diplomacy.
That was the great danger and one which was ever present before theCardinal's mind: the return of Lord Everingham. Every day added to thedanger, and it was Wessex' own impatience to see the end of his ownshattered existence, which had up to now saved His Eminence fromexposure.
The Duke had urged that his trial should come on speedily. This wasreadily granted, for he was the Duke of Wessex still. The trial itselfwould not last more than the one day, seeing that the accused had madefull confession and only a few secondary depositions were to be read forform's sake. His Grace had refused counsel, there could be no argument.The judges on the face of the circumstantial self-accusation were bound,in the name of justice, to convict and condemn, in spite of publicopinion, in spite of the machinations of the Duke's friends, in spiteeven of the Queen's commands.
Once His Grace was out of the way, His Eminence had felt that he wouldbe able to breathe more freely, but until then he was living at the edgeof a volcano, and often wondered how it had not broken out ere now.
The news of the crime and of Wessex' arrest had been sent to Scotland,he knew that; but the way thither was long, the late October gales wouldmake the journey by sea difficult, whilst the overland roads, soddenwith the rain, were unusually bad; but in any event, Everingham wasbound to arrive in England within the next ten days, for, of a surety,he would travel with mad speed on hearing the terrible news.
But now Mary Tudor suddenly offered him a definite promise, a bargainwhich he could clinch before exposure had shamed him publicly. The taskproposed was indeed difficult, but it was not impossible to such afar-reaching mind as that of my lord Cardinal.
A few moments' deep reflection, whilst the Queen watched him eagerly,and he had already formed a plan.
"Does Your Eminence accept the bargain?" asked Mary impatiently at last,seeing that he seemed disinclined to break the silence.
"I accept it, Your Majesty," he replied quietly.
"You have my royal promise if you succeed."
"If His Grace to-morrow is acquitted by his judges, through myintervention," said His Eminence, "I will claim Your Majesty's promisein the evening."
"Your Eminence can have a document ready and I will sign it."
"It shall be done as Your Majesty directs."
"Then I'll bid Your Eminence farewell, until to-morrow."
"I am ever at Your Majesty's service. But before retiring I would craveone favour."
"I pray you speak."
"To speak to the Lady Ursula Glynde."
A long bitter laugh of the keenest disappointment came from Mary Tudor'soppressed heart.
"Nay!" she said in a tone of deep discouragement, "an you pin your faithon that hussy, Your Eminence had best give up the attempt at once."
"Did I not say that I would attempt the impossible?" said the Cardinal,unperturbed.
"The impossible indeed, an you wish to appeal to that wench," retortedMary drily.
"Have I Your Majesty's permission to speak to the lady?" persisted theCardinal blandly.
Mary shrugged her shoulders impatiently. She was terribly disappointed.All her hopes had been built on the clever machinations of this man, onsome tortuous means which his brain would surely evolve if she held outa sufficiently tempting bait to him. She had half endowed him withsupernatural powers . . . and now . . . an empty scheme to make anappeal to that heartless coward, who might save Wessex, yet refused todo it!
But the Cardinal was smiling: he looked a rare picture of benevolenceand dignity, with those white hands of his which seemed ever ready for acaress. He looked triumphant too, his eyes were eagerly fixed upon heras if her consent to the useless interview was of great and suprememoment. To her the appeal to Ursula did not even seem to be a laststraw, but something far more ephemeral, intangible, a breath from somemocking demon. Yet the Cardinal looked so satisfied. She shrugged hershoulders again, as if dismissing all hope, all responsibility, allinterest, but she said nevertheless--
"When does Your Eminence desire to see her?"
"To-morrow in the Lord Chancellor's Court," he replied, "half an hourbefore the arrival of the Lord High Steward. Can that be done?"
"It shall be, since Your Eminence wishes it."
"And to-night I will announce the joyful news by special messenger tothe King of Spain," he added significantly.
"Is Your Eminence so sure of success then?"
"As sure as I am of the fact that the Queen of England is the mostgracious lady in Europe," he replied, with all the courtly grace whichhe knew so well how to assume. "I pray you then to trust in God," heconcluded earnestly, "and in the devotion of Your Majesty's humbleservant."
He took his leave ceremoniously, with pompous dignity, as was his wont.She did not care to prolong the interview, and nodded listlessly when heprepared to go. She felt more than ever hopeless and angered withherself for having clinched a bargain with that man.
But His Eminence the Cardinal de Moreno left the presence of the Queenof England with a smile of satisfaction and a sigh of anticipatedtriumph.
It was not an appeal which he meant to address to the Lady UrsulaGlynde.