<SPAN name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></SPAN><hr />
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></SPAN></span><br/>
<h3><i>CHAPTER XII</i><span class="totoc"><SPAN href="#toc">ToC</SPAN></span></h3>
<h3><i>Atonement</i></h3>
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<p>I had not been long in the room when a knock at the door announced the
girls. I admitted them, and Mary walked to the middle of the floor. It
was just growing dark and the room was quite dim, save at the window
where Brandon sat reading. Gods! those were exciting moments; my heart
beat like a woman's. Brandon saw the girls when they entered, but
never so much as looked up from his book. You must remember he had a
great grievance. Even looking at it from Mary's side of the case,
certainly its best point of view, he had been terribly misused, and it
was all the worse that the misuse had come from one who, from his
standpoint, had <i>pretended</i> to love him, and had wantonly led him on,
as he had the best of right to think, to love her, and to suffer the
keenest pangs a heart can know. Then you must remember he did not know
even the best side of the matter, bad as it was, but saw only the
naked fact, that in recompense for his great help in time of need,
Mary had deliberately allowed him to lie in that dungeon a long,
miserable month, and would have suffered him to die. So it was no
wonder his heart was filled with bitterness toward her. Jane and I had
remained near the door, and <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></SPAN></span>poor Mary was a pitiable princess,
standing there so full of doubt in the middle of the room. After a
moment she stepped toward the window, and, with quick-coming breath,
stopped at the threshold of the little passage.</p>
<p>"Master Brandon, I have come, not to make excuses, for nothing can
excuse me, but to tell you how it all happened—by trusting to
another."</p>
<p>Brandon arose, and marking the place in his book with his finger,
followed Mary, who had stepped backward into the room.</p>
<p>"Your highness is very gracious and kind thus to honor me, but as our
ways will hereafter lie as far apart as the world is broad, I think it
would have been far better had you refrained from so imprudent a
visit; especially as anything one so exalted as yourself may have to
say can be no affair of such as I—one just free of the hangman's
noose."</p>
<p>"Oh! don't! I pray you. Let me tell you, and it may make a difference.
It must pain you, I know, to think of me as you do, after—after—you
know; after what has passed between us."</p>
<p>"Yes, that only makes it all the harder. If you could give your
kisses"—and she blushed red as blood—"to one for whom you care so
little that you could leave him to die like a dog, when a word from
you would have saved him, what reason have I to suppose they are not
for every man?"</p>
<p>This gave Mary an opening of which she was <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></SPAN></span>quick enough to take
advantage, for Brandon was in the wrong.</p>
<p>"You know that is not true. You are not honest with me nor with
yourself, and that is not like you. You know that no other man ever
had, or could have, any favor from me, even the slightest. Wantonness
is not among my thousand faults. It is not that which angers you. You
are sure enough of me in that respect. In truth, I had almost come to
believe you were too sure, that I had grown cheap in your eyes, and
you did not care so much as I thought and hoped for what I had to
give, for after that day you came not near me at all. I know it was
the part of wisdom and prudence that you should remain away; but had
you cared as much as I, your prudence would not have held you."</p>
<p>She hung her head a moment in silence; then, looking at him, almost
ready for tears, continued: "A man has no right to speak in that way
of a woman whose little favors he has taken, and make her regret that
she has given a gift only that it may recoil upon her. 'Little,' did I
say? Sir, do you know what that—first—kiss was to me? Had I
possessed all the crowns of all the earth I would have given them to
you as willingly. Now you know the value I placed on it, however
worthless it was to you. Yet I was a cheerful giver of that great
gift, was I not? And can you find it in your heart to make of it a
shame to me—that of which I was so proud?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></SPAN></span>She stood there with head inclined a little to one side, looking at
him inquiringly as if awaiting an answer. He did not speak, but looked
steadily at his book. I felt, however, that he was changing, and I was
sure her beauty, never more exquisite than in its present humility,
would yet atone for even so great a fault as hers. Err, look
beautiful, and receive remission! Such a woman as Mary carries her
indulgence in her face.</p>
<p>I now began to realize for the first time the wondrous power of this
girl, and ceased to marvel that she had always been able to turn even
the king, the most violent, stubborn man on earth, to her own wishes.
Her manner made her words eloquent, and already, with true feminine
tactics, she had put Brandon in the wrong in everything because he was
wrong in part.</p>
<p>Then she quickly went over what she had said to me. She told of her
great dread lest the king should learn of the visit to Grouche's and
its fatal consequences, knowing full well it would render Henry
impervious to her influence and precipitate the French marriage. She
told him of how she was going to the king the day after the arrest to
ask his release, and of the meeting with Buckingham, and his promise.</p>
<p>Still Brandon said nothing, and stood as if politely waiting for her
to withdraw.</p>
<p>She remained silent a little time, waiting for him <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></SPAN></span>to speak, when
tears, partly of vexation, I think, moistened her eyes.</p>
<p>"Tell me at least," she said, "that you know I speak the truth. I have
always believed in you, and now I ask for your faith. I would not lie
to you in the faintest shading of a thought—not for heaven
itself—not even for your love and forgiveness, much as they are to
me, and I want to know that you are sure of my truthfulness, if you
doubt all else. You see I speak plainly of what your love is to me,
for although, by remaining away, you made me fear I had been too
lavish with my favors—that is every woman's fear—I knew in my heart
you loved me; that you could not have done and said what you did
otherwise. Now you see what faith I have in you, and you a man, whom a
woman's instinct prompts to doubt. How does it compare with your faith
in me, a woman, whom all the instincts of a manly nature should
dispose to trust? It seems to be an unwritten law that a man may lie
to a woman concerning the most important thing in life to her, and be
proud of it, but you see even now I have all faith in your love for
me, else I surely should not be here. You see I trust even your
unspoken word, when it might, without much blame to you, be a spoken
lie; yet you do not trust me, who have no world-given right to speak
falsely about such things, and when that which I now do is full of
shame for me, and what I have done full of guilt, if inspired by aught
but the purest truth from my heart of hearts. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></SPAN></span>Your words mean so
much—so much more, I think, than you realize—and are so cruel in
turning to evil the highest, purest impulse a woman can feel—the
glowing pride in self-surrender, and the sweet, delightful privilege
of giving where she loves. How can you? How can you?"</p>
<p>How eloquent she was! It seemed to me this would have melted the
frozen sea, but I think Brandon felt that now his only hope lay in the
safeguard of his constantly upheld indignation.</p>
<p>When he spoke he ignored all she had said.</p>
<p>"You did well to employ my Lord of Buckingham. It will make matters
more interesting when I tell you it was he who attacked you and was
caught by the leg under his wounded horse; he was lame, I am told, for
some time afterward. I had watched him following you from the gate at
Bridewell, and at once recognized him when his mask fell off during
the fight by the wall. You have done well at every step, I see."</p>
<p>"Oh, God; to think of it! Had I but known! Buckingham shall pay for
this with his head; but how could I know? I was but a poor, distracted
girl, sure to make some fatal error. I was in such agony—your
wounds—believe me, I suffered more from them than you could. Every
pain you felt was a pang for me—and then that awful marriage! I was
being sold like a wretched slave to that old satyr, to be gloated over
and feasted upon. No man can know the horror of that thought to a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></SPAN></span>woman—to any woman, good or bad. To have one's beauty turn to curse
her and make her desirable only—only as well-fed cattle are prized. No
matter how great the manifestation of such so-called love, it all the
more repels a woman and adds to her loathing day by day. Then there was
something worse than all,"—she was almost weeping now—"I might have
been able to bear the thought even of that hideous marriage—others
have lived through the like—but—but after—that—that day—when
you—it seemed that your touch was a spark dropped into a heart full of
tinder, which had been lying there awaiting it all these years. In that
one moment the flame grew so intense I could not withstand it. My
throat ached; I could scarcely breathe, and it seemed that my heart
would burst." Here the tears gushed forth as she took a step toward him
with outstretched arms, and said between her sobs: "I wanted you, you!
for my husband—for my husband, and I could not bear the torturing
thought of losing you or enduring any other man. I could not give you
up after that—it was all too late, too late; it had gone too far. I
was lost! lost!"</p>
<p>He sprang to where she stood leaning toward him, and caught her to his
breast.</p>
<p>She held him from her while she said: "Now you know—now you know that
I would not have left you in that terrible place, had I known it. No,
not if it had taken my life to buy your freedom."</p>
<p>"I do know; I do know. Be sure of that; I <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></SPAN></span>know it and shall know it
always, whatever happens; nothing can change me. I will never doubt
you again. It is my turn to ask forgiveness now."</p>
<p>"No, no; just forgive me; that is all I ask," and her head was on his
breast.</p>
<p>"Let us step out into the passage-way, Edwin," said Jane, and we did.
There were times when Jane seemed to be inspired.</p>
<p>When we went back into the room Mary and Brandon were sitting in the
window-way on his great cloak. They rose and came to us, holding each
other's hands, and Mary asked, looking up to him:</p>
<p>"Shall we tell them?"</p>
<p>"As you like, my lady."</p>
<p>Mary was willing, and looked for Brandon to speak, so he said: "This
lady whom I hold by the hand and myself have promised each other
before the good God to be husband and wife, if fortune ever so favor
us that it be possible."</p>
<p>"No, that is not it," interrupted Mary. "There is no 'if' in it; it
shall be, whether it is possible or not. Nothing shall prevent." At
this she kissed Jane and told her how she loved her, and gave me her
hand, for her love was so great within her that it overflowed upon
every one. She, however, always had a plenitude of love for Jane, and
though she might scold her and apparently misuse her, Jane was as dear
as a sister, and was always sure of her steadfast, tried and lasting
affection.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></SPAN></span>After Mary had said there should be no "if," Brandon replied:</p>
<p>"Very well, Madame Destiny." Then turning to us: "What ought I to do
for one who is willing to stoop from so high an estate to honor me and
be my wife?"</p>
<p>"Love her, and her alone, with your whole heart, as long as you live.
That is all she wants, I am sure," volunteered Jane, sentimentally.</p>
<p>"Jane, you are a Madam Solomon," said Mary, with a tone of her
old-time laugh. "Is the course you advise as you would wish to be done
by?" And she glanced mischievously from Jane to me, as the laugh
bubbled up from her heart, merry and soft as if it had not come from
what was but now the home of grief and pain.</p>
<p>"I know nothing about how I should like to be done by," said Jane,
with a pout, "but if you have such respect for my wisdom I will offer
a little more; I think it is time we should be going."</p>
<p>"Now, Jane, you are growing foolish again; I will not go yet," and
Mary made manifest her intention by sitting down. She could not bring
herself to forego the pleasure of staying, dangerous as she knew it to
be, and could not bear the pain of parting, even for a short time, now
that she had Brandon once more. The time was soon coming—but I am too
fast again.</p>
<p>After a time Brandon said: "I think Jane's <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></SPAN></span>wisdom remains with her,
Mary. It is better that you do not stay, much as I wish to have you."</p>
<p>She was ready to obey him at once.</p>
<p>When she arose to go she took both his hands in hers and whispered:
"'Mary.' I like the name on your lips," and then glancing hurriedly
over her shoulder to see if Jane and I were looking, lifted her face
to him and ran after us.</p>
<p>We were a little in advance of the princess, and, as we walked along,
Jane said under her breath: "Now look out for trouble; it will come
quickly, and I fear for Master Brandon more than any one. He has made
a noble fight against her and against himself, and it is no wonder she
loves him."</p>
<p>This made me feel a little jealous.</p>
<p>"Jane, you could not love him, could you?" I asked.</p>
<p>"No matter what I could do, Edwin; I do not, and that should satisfy
you." Her voice and manner said more than her words. The hall was
almost dark, and—I have always considered that occasion one of my
lost opportunities; but they are not many.</p>
<p>The next evening Brandon and I, upon Lady Mary's invitation, went up
to her apartments, but did not stay long, fearing some one might find
us there and cause trouble. We would not have gone at all had not the
whole court been absent in London, for discovery would have been a
serious matter to one of us at least.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></SPAN></span>As I told you once before, Henry did not care how much Brandon might
love his sister, but Buckingham had whispered suspicions of the state
of Mary's heart, and his own observations, together with the
intercepted note, had given these suspicions a stronger coloring, so
that a very small matter might turn them into certainties.</p>
<p>The king had pardoned Brandon for the killing of the two men in
Billingsgate, as he was forced to do under the circumstances, but
there his kindness stopped. After a short time he deprived him of his
place at court, and all that was left for him of royal favor was
permission to remain with me and live at the palace until such time as
he should sail for New Spain.</p>
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