The Washington times., 1901-12-08


cester. but he Of the gallant form and
craven heart-VarDey: bowed his head
before the Queen. and repeated his clever
tale.
"Biamo not my Lord Of leicester - cried
he. The unfortunate woman is my wife.
She is subject to malady Of the brain
that is destroying her reason. | pray
your Majesty that you will sive me lib
erty to remove her to a place Of safety,
and pardon her that she has thus rudely
: broken in upon your festivities"
Thus spaEe the crafty Varney, and the
Earl Of Leicester. dismayed by the Queens
wrath. divided between love for his wife
and love OF power, puts off yet little
! longer the admission which he fears will
Re fatal to his hopes and advancement.
Yet he is resolved that this conceal
ment shall end. and at the first moment
when he cen absent himself from Eliza
! beth's side. hastens to Varney. telling him
his resolve to give up all the splendors
of court for the sake of the blue-eyed
girl whom be loves so we'll.
But what tale is this that Varney whis
pers in his ear? His young wife is faith
less to him? Her old lover, Sir George
Tressilian. has followed 10 the castle,
and she is even now lodged in his apart
ment?
You gave up the crown that Elizabeth
was ready to place upon your head"
whispered Varney. like the proverbial ser
pent Of old And for whom? woman
who did not appreciate the sacrifice you
made for her, to respect even her mar
riage vow. A woman who because of her
sin. has merited death at the hand of
the law? Let her receive her just de-
serts-let her guilty soul go and beg for
giveness at the throne of heaven? Do
you take upon yourself his punishment
but leave the guilty wife to me"
And the Earl of Leicester, in a wild
moment Of passion and despair. consents.
Blame him not too severely. When the
next day fate apprises him of his ladys
innocence, in a transport OF delight, with
one brave fling he destroys the fetters
that bind him. "rushes. with pale face and
straining eyes. before her Majesty. and
throws himself upon her mercy"
At last at last, oh. mighty earl you
have vindicated your love for your fair
countess. and right has claimed the vic
tory We see the stern face OF Eng
lands haugty Queen, as she listens to
the story.
We hear her furious words. How now?
Come one. come all. and hear his words!
This brave confession has cost England
King and Elizabeth a husband" With
bowed head Leicester kneels before her,
his face cold and e1pressionless as a mar
BILE mask.
The mobiles and courtiers implore. with
frightened faces. that she will compose
herself; but the Queen pours out tor
rent of vituperation, rails and jeers at
him till the good old Burleigh ventures
to interpose.
Madame, do not give way to this un-
worthy passion" cried the old courtler,
remember that you are a Queen-the
Queen Of England. the mother of your
people"
"Ah. Burleigh" exclaimed the Queen,
you speak to me of composure; but the
sorrow this day has brought to me-thou
thou little knowest."
The Earl Of Leicester's confession. like
many another sacrifice. was made too
late; and when he FASTENED TO meet his
fair young bride he found her dead
Varney had taken her back to Cunnor
Place, where she had spent SO many days
of her married life; but now her abiding
place vas the topmost room IN dreary
tower, and from the drawbrdge that con-
nected it with the house they removed the |
supports and opened wide the door.
Even old Anthony Foster. almost with |
out conscience, as he was. rebelled |
against the cruel trick. and whispered a |
warning to the countess that she must
not leave her chamber door then passed
with Varney down the stairs, and waited
for the outcome.
by heaven" cried the Knight, walking
impatlently about why does she keep
SO still? Would ever women neglect so /
fair chance of escape?"
1T may be she waits for her husband" |
cried Anthony Foster, trembling lest his |
double part be discovered.
The words were the undoing of his mer- |
ciful Intentions. Varney started to his |
feet. Hat / had not thought of that"
he cried, and hurried from the room.
A moment later there was the tramp OF |
horses hoofs in the yard. and a shrilI |
whistle like the Earl had been wont to
give at his approach. 1t penetrated the !
high walls Of the tower and reached the |
ears OF the lovely countess as she sat
weeping
Instantly Fosters warning was forgot
ten. She sprang to the door and stood
there FOR a moment framed In the gloomy
oak-a picture as fair as e'er the sun
shone on. Robert Robert" she cried.
with outstretched arms. and stepped upon
the bridge. 1t gave way under her.
There was a crash-a groan--down at
the foot Of the causeway. upon the cruel
stones, lay a heap Of white clothes like
a snow-drift; from out Of 1t hand moved
feebly once or twice-then all was still.
Such is the story OF Scotts Army Rob-
sart. History shows another life. and at
first glance there seems none Of the ro-
nance. and little Of the tragedy. Of the
old familiar tale.
The true 'Amye Duddeley." wife of Sir
Robert Duddeley. never was persuaded
into secret marriage. her union with
Sir Robert being celebrated with due and
betting pomp; never was Countess OF
Leicester, for Lord Robert was not
until a year after her death;
never saw the festivities Of Ken.lworth,
for that gala scene took place when she
had been resting IN her grave for fifteen
years