Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

CATHARINE HOWARD. 13 Harry before; for in a trice he had hobbled out, and was bawling for his horse. At dusk we jacked him on and rode toward Horsham; the King a-cursing at his leg. What with our slow progress, the Duke met us below the Park. He looked white and sick; for sure a mighty poacher was prowling near his nest. Someways in the Park, the King would be dismounted, and Howard, shaking like a toper, helped him down. The moon had by this time risen, and cast a white light in the trees. We followed a by-path, and stumbling over roots, came out before the high donjon of Horsham House. Keeping in the long black shadow, we reached its walls, the King panting and puffing like a blown ox. Lord Howard gave a shrill whistle, and almost on the instant a casement opened not four yards away, and framed the opening from a clear inner light. I heard the King gasp, and Raff aeli press him against the masonry ; for sharp as a poinard, a young girl's shape, cut out a shadow from the window's sheath. She was leaned forward listening, and the moonlight caught her face and neck like a white cameo. A strange ruddy haze shone from her thick hair, and her listening eyes were parted wide. One moment her lips flashed a smile, and then, closing the casement, the shape was gone. At the same moment a cloud passed over the moon, and Raff aeli was for doubling on our tracks. I cannot forget how they stood there, the weasel smiling softly; Howard, hands fisted, the blood trickling from his bit lips; the King in thick daze, leering, yet his hands opening and shutting. * * * How we got the King back to Norwich monastery, and how he lay a-bed there from a fresh opening of his sore, does not concern you. I was a rough hand at nurse and left such work to the lay brothers. The King kept them scuttling like frightened rabbits. Raffaeli tip-toed in and out, and I judged there was a plot a-hatching. Now, in the stress of what followed thick and fast, much happened that I was not privy to. I was not a peeper and spyall like the Italian, and 'twas only by dint of slow computation that I pieced it one and two. Raffaeli came to me with a missive bearing the royal seal, and bade me deliver it privately to the Duke at Horsham. As I, sniffing evil, rode the Park, a waggon laden with the Duke's furniture lay rutted in the roadway. 1 reached the castle and found a stir among the servitors; and much hurrying and packing of chattels. From a stableboy I learned the Duke was off in much haste for Ladbeth, his place near London. Coming on him in a riding coat, I gave him the King's letter. He turned his back to read it, but I saw him start as the writing bit in; turning, he bade me follow; and soon we were back on the Norwich road. Raffaeli met him at the King's door, and they going in, he closed it tightly. When Norfolk came out alone, he staggered like a drunkard, and scarce could hold' a footing on the stairs. "Marry the King's sister !" he muttered. "My dove in his talons ! Scarce my bride — yet I dare not tell him." The frenzied man fumbled with his stirrups, and 'ere I could help him, was pounding down the road. For the space of two days nothing happened, and I thought the plot was cooling, but then a black-edged letter came from Horsham, that started all to boiling. The King's door stayed bolted, but Raffaeli was inside. The gallery seemed to echo whispers from within, and I could hear the King groaning out his answers. Now, when night began to fall, the Milanese stuck his head out in the passage and bade me enter. King Henry lay upon a tousled bed, his leg much swollen and swathed with bandages. I bent over him and kist his big jeweled hand. "Hark ye," he said, "get a wherry and have it by the bridge at midnight. There is devil's work a-foot at Horsham, so haste ye." That night, I rowing, the King seated heavily in the stern, we worked slowly up the river Wensum till we