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.