against God’s truth.”
“Nay! But it would have to be proved.”
“Perhaps it is my duty to prove it. And when I talk of love I think not of my body’s needs. When did I ever think of that? Nay! I need sons. I need them now in my declining years more than I ever did. If I put away one wife and take another, it would be solely with the object of getting myself sons, of making my line safe … for England’s sake.”
“That,” said the conscience primly, “is a very good motive for putting away a barren wife.”
The conscience was subdued. It had been shown that as usual the sensualist and the moralist walked hand in hand.
And now the Chancellor was at his side.
He murmured: “Your Grace’s pardon, but have I Your Grace’s permission to question the condemned woman?”
“You suspect you can get the names of others?”
“I do, Your Majesty; and I propose to question her in the service of Your Grace.”
“If there be those in this realm who disobey their King, I would know of them. Whoever they be, sir Chancellor, they may expect no mercy from me.”
The Chancellor bowed. He was pleased to have won such an easy victory.
THE DOOR OF ANNE’S cell was opening.
Two men had come for her.
“Is it to be so soon?” she asked. “Do you take me to Smithfield?”
“Not yet, mistress. You have another journey to make ere you set out on that last one.”
“What journey is this?”
“You will see soon enough. Are you ready to come with us?”
“Yes.”
She walked between the two men.
“Whither are you taking me?” she asked; but she believed she knew.
“Oh God,” she prayed, “help me. Help me now as never before, for I need Your help. I am a woman… and weak… and I have suffered much. I am faint from hunger, sick from cold; but it is not these things which distress me. I mourn because I am afraid.”
She fell against the slimy walls in her sickness; she drew back shuddering as she heard the rats scuttling away, alarmed by the sound of footsteps.
“This way, mistress.”
One of the men pushed her forward, and before her dazed eyes appeared a short, spiral staircase, down which they led her.
Now they were in the gloomy dungeons below the great Tower. Foul odors from the river were stronger here.
“Oh God,” she prayed, “let me die here. Let me die for the Faith. Willingly I will give my life. Let me not bring disgrace on the Faith. Let me be strong.”
Now the sickening stench of stale blood assailed her nostrils. She had no doubt to what place they were taking her. Misery seemed to haunt it. She fancied she heard the screams of men in agony. Did she really hear them, or were they the ghostly echoes of forgotten men?
She was pushed into the chamber—that dread chamber, the sight of which sickened the hearts of the bravest men.
She fell against a stone pillar from which hung the hideous instruments whose uses she could only guess, except that she knew they were made to torture men.
Two men had come toward her—two of the most brutishlooking men she had ever seen. Their eyes betrayed them—their glittering, cold, excited eyes. Those eyes betrayed too a certain lewdness in their thoughts; it was as though they spoke and said: “Ha! Here we have a woman!” These two men were Chancellor Wriothesley and Solicitor-General Rich, whom she had seen at her trial.
She was aware that this was to be one of the most important cross-examinations which had ever taken place in this room, for not only were the Chancellor and the Solicitor-General present, but there also was Sir Anthony Knevet, the Lieutenant of the Tower.
She looked at him appealingly, for he had not the cruel, animal look of the other men, and it seemed to her that there was sympathy in his eyes, as though they meant to convey the message to her: “I am not responsible for this. I but obey orders.”
The Chancellor spoke first. He had seated himself at the table on which were writing materials.
“You wonder why you are brought here, madam?” he said.
“I know why people are brought here. It is to answer questions.”
“You are clever. I can see that we need not waste time with explanations.”
The Solicitor-General had turned to her. “You will answer my questions, madam.”
“Do not weary yourselves with asking me questions,” she said. “I have answered them, and I shall not change those answers. I believe that the body of