The Heart

All this Catherine Cavendish told me in a manner which seemed

strangely foreign to her, being gentle, and yet not so gentle as

subdued, and her fair face was paler than ever, and when I looked at

her and said not a word, and yet had a question in my eyes which she

was at no loss to interpret, tears welled into her own, and she bent

lower and whispered lest even the stranger at the window should

hear, that Mary "sent her dear love, but, but--"

I raised myself with such energy at that that she was startled, and

the gentleman at the window half turned.

"What have they done with her?" I cried. "If they dare--"

"Hush," said Catherine. "Our grandmother hath but locked her in her

chamber, since she hath discovered her love for thee, and frowns

upon it, not since thou art a convict, but since thou hast turned

against the King. She says that no granddaughter of hers shall wed a

rebel, be he convict or prince. But she is safe, Harry, and there

will no harm come to her, and indeed I think that if they in

authority have heard aught of what she hath done, they are minded to

keep it quiet, and--and--"

Then to my exceeding bewilderment down on her knees beside me went

that proud maid and begged my pardon for her scorn of me, saying

that she knew me guiltless, and knew for what reason I had taken

such obloquy upon myself.

Then the gentleman at the window turned when she appealed to him,

and came near, and I saw who he was--my half-brother, John

Chelmsford.