The Captive Queen of Scots - Plaidy Jean. Страница 47

The window was high in the thick wall and a stool was silently brought so that the Queen could stand on it to climb to the scooped out aperture. Marie Courcelles firmly tied the knotted sheet about Mary’s waist. Jane Kennedy tested it and nodded.

Then the escape began. Mary reached the window and peering down saw a dark figure below. Herries? She said nothing, but as silently as possible clambered out of the window.

Behind her the sheet was held firmly by her waiting women; then she was swinging in mid-air, only her skirts protecting her from the rough castle wall as she was lowered.

She was seized in a strong pair of arms and with a rush of triumph, felt her feet touch ground.

Hastily she untied the sheet about her waist. There was no time for more. Then she and her companions were running toward the coppices, down the slope to where Willie was waiting with the horses.

Willie grinned at her and helped her into the saddle. She felt a great joy surge over her as she whispered to her horse: “Away!” And the gallop through the soft night air began.

As they started off she thought she heard a shout from the castle; then there was silence.

She heard Willie’s chuckle beside her and for a few moments there was no sound other than that of the thudding of horses’ hoofs.

IT WAS SETON’S TURN to follow. She knew that she had to catch up with the others, for the plan was that there was to be no waiting; and as soon as Mary reached the horses she was to mount and ride away.

“Quickly!” cried Seton. The knotted sheet were hauled up, but as this was done one of the women fell backwards, and in her fall, taking the stool with her, went crashing to the floor.

There were a few seconds of shocked silence as she lay there. Then Seton said: “Hurry. There is no time to lose.” Marie Courcelles was tying the sheets about Seton’s waist, when the door opened and Lord Scrope stood on the threshold of the room.

He took it all in at a glance: The knotted sheets and Seton preparing to descend through the window. Then his dismay was apparent, for he had noticed the absence of the Queen.

He said nothing, though he must have guessed that had he come in a few minutes earlier he would have caught the Queen in the act of escaping.

He went back to the ante-room, and the frightened women heard his shouted orders.

MARY LOOKED over her shoulder.

Where was Seton? She should have been close to them by now, because it took only a few moments to descend from the window.

Willie shouted: “She’ll catch us up. If not in England, in bonny Scotland. We’ll almost be there by morning.” They thundered on; but when they had ridden some two miles there was still no sign of Seton; but the night was dark, Mary told herself, and it might well be that Seton was not far behind.

They had reached a gap in the hills and, as they were about to pass through this, a horse and rider confronted them.

Mary thought: Seton! Then she must have come by another road to the gap.

But almost at once she saw that it was not Seton.

Lord Scrope said: “Well met, Your Majesty. Had you told me you wished to take a midnight ride, I should have arranged for a suitable escort to accompany you.”

Mary was speechless with dismay. She heard Willie let out an oath.

“And,” said Lord Scrope, “your descent from your window must have been very uncomfortable.” He laid his hand on her arm. “It shall be my pleasure now to escort you back to the castle.”

Mary had rarely felt so mortified. Her companions said nothing as the three of them, surrounded by the guards whom Scrope had brought with him, were conducted back to the castle.

SCROPE DID NOT retire to his bed on returning to the castle. He went to Knollys’ bedchamber and, awakening him, told him how he had prevented the Queen’s escape.

Knollys started up from his bed in consternation.

“You may well look alarmed,” said Scrope grimly. “If this plan had succeeded—as it so nearly did—it could have cost us our heads.”

He hastily explained what had happened. He had had an intuition that all was not normal in the women’s chamber and consequently he had not dropped off to sleep quickly, as he usually did. He had thought the women were whispering together and this was followed by a too sudden and unnatural quiet; then when he had heard a stool overturned and gone to investigate he had discovered the knotted sheets and that the Queen was missing.

Knollys congratulated him on his speedy action.

“I can tell you,” said Scrope, wiping his brow at the memory, “I had some uneasy moments.”

“What have you done now?”

“Posted guards at the door of the Queen’s chamber and others below her window. In future we shall have to make sure that she is guarded in every possible way. I cannot imagine what will be said when our Queen knows of this.”

“It is my belief that she will take the Queen of Scots from our care and place her in the custody of someone else.”

“I have heard Tutbury mentioned in this connection, and that would doubtless mean that she would pass into Shrewsbury’s care. He would be more than welcome to her.”

“What do you propose to do?”

“Write to Secretary Cecil without delay. He has asked for a full account of all that happens here. He must be told of this attempt. It clearly indicates that some action must be taken sooner or later, because there will be other attempts to free her.”

There was a knock at the door at that moment and, to the astonishment of both men when Knollys called “Come in,” Lady Scrope entered.

She had wrapped a loose gown about her and had clearly come straight from her bed.

She cried: “What is this? I was awakened by the commotion, and now I am told that the Queen almost escaped.”

“That is so,” her husband replied. “And you should return to your bed. You will catch cold. Remember your condition.”

“I am not cold,” answered Lady Scrope, “and as our child is not expected until the end of the year you need have no qualms about my condition. But I have qualms on another matter. Tell me what measures are you going to take?”

Knollys said: “Pray sit down, Lady Scrope.” And Scrope brought a stool for his wife, who sat down near the bed.

“We are doubling the guard of course,” her husband told her.

“But you must not let it be known that she almost eluded you!”

“My dear,” began Lord Scrope indulgently, “you do not understand . . . .”

“Do not understand Elizabeth!” she cried.

Both men looked uneasily toward the door, and Lady Scrope acknowledged their furtive glances by lowering her voice. “What do you think Her Majesty will say when and if she hears of this night’s doings?” she went on. “Two members of her Privy Council, and as many men as they care to employ, to guard one woman—and they almost fail! Do you think she will say ‘Well done!’ If you do, you do not know Elizabeth. I know that if you had allowed the Queen of Scots to escape, the Tower of London might very well be your destination. As you prevented that calamity . . . but only just . . . you might avoid the Tower, but you would not win Her Majesty’s approval, I do assure you.”

Both men were silent. There was a great deal in what Lady Scrope was saying. Naturally she was agitated; she had no wish to see her husband fall into disgrace.

“This must be hushed up,” she said. “If you are wise you will certainly not write to the Queen or her ministers about what has taken place tonight. You will stop the news being spread. The fewer who know, the better. As for the extra guards you intend to put on duty, do so, but let it be done with stealth. If you value Elizabeth’s good opinion and her favor, for the love of God do not let her know that you almost failed in your duty.”