None dared to break the silence which succeeded; even the most familiar courtiers feared the violent spirit of their mistress; and, until she again spoke, an unbroken stillness pervaded the room. "I crave your pardon, my lord," said Mary, who cared not to offend the cardinal; "my speech was prompted by the sudden ebullition of my rage, nor thought I, or intended to displease you." 66 Nay, madam," he replied, "it is not meet for me to listen to your apologies; it would ill become a servant of royalty not to bear the anger of his sovereign - even had he merited it." The last words were uttered in a tone of reproach, and the blood rushed forcibly to the face of the Queen. "It is idle to waste more time in hearing further particulars of Amy Vernon's unyielding obstinacy," exclaimed Bonner, who had till now remained silent; "if it so please your Majesty, the warrant for her execution ought presently to be signed, and speedily carried into effect." "Your advice is both good and reasonable, my lord," said Mary; and she beckoned to a page, who bore a small ebony table, with implements of writing, to her side. She would instantly have signed the parchment, but Cardinal Pole, whose counsel Mary heeded and 'respected, interposed, saying, "Would your Majesty deign to listen to my entreaties, I humbly would beg a short respite for this unhappy female, whose youth and inexperience entitle her to some leniency. Could your Majesty behold her grace and beauty, and hear her mild reasoning, you would, indeed, pity her." "Tush!tush!-my lord!" interrupted the Queen, impatiently; "thou dost weary us with the recital of her charms. Marry! I do believe thou hast been wounded by the eyes of this Mistress Amy;justice, my Lord Cardinal, shall be satisfied whilst I possess the throne of England;" and she again seized the pen to sign the warrant. The meek and gentle Pole, who usually cared not to incense Mary, answered, in a firm tone: "I did not suppose so slight a boon would have been denied me; but it would have been wiser had I avoided these meetings altogether, when the advice and requests of those beneath him" (and he looked angrily on Bonner) "are listened to in preference to those of the primate of England, who had far better quit the palace of his Queen, and retire from the turmoils of a court, where his claims are little heeded." "And by my life, thou speakest truth," replied the wily Mary, in a soothing tone, at the same time tearing the warrant, and scattering the fragments on the floor; "talk not of leaving our court, my lord, and we will say nothing more of the execution of Amy Vernon for the present; but we would ourselves see this model of perfection; thinkst thou she would visit us at our court, an we were to invite her?" she asked, in a sarcastic manner. "She will, doubtless, as it befitteth her, attend your Majesty's summons," said the cardinal, coldly; and four yeoman of the guard were forthwith dispatched to his residence, with an order for the person of Amy Vernon. The conversation grew less interesting until the arrival of the prisoner, who was instantly admitted to the Queen's presence. Her fetters had been removed at the command of the cardinal; and when she appeared before Mary, she stood fearlessly, and returned her scrutinizing glance by one of equal firmness. Her late sufferings had somewhat impaired her beauty; but no trace of sorrow or dismay was visible on her pale countenance. She was attired in a dark garb of coarse camlet; and one of the guards, more compassionate than his comrades, had thrown a cloak of scarlet cloth around her, to shield her from the inclemency of the night wind, which formed a strong contrast to the whiteness of her neck and arms; though they were in many parts discolored by the application of the torture. Even the boldest hearts felt awed at the wild appearance of this young creature, who thus relinquished her brilliant station in the world, for the joys and happiness which were in store for her hereafter. The silence which had succeeded the entrance of Amy, was suddenly broken by a long, loud, and piercing shriek, apparently proceeding from one of the ante-rooms; it was like that which bursts from the lips of a dying wretch, when all hopes of succor are fled;-or the fearful ejaculation of a raging maniac; and the hearers quailed with alarm, as the sounds rapidly advanced towards the room. A brief, but ineffectual struggle was heard at the door of the aparment, and with speed and violence an aged female strode into the room. She cast a wild, and eager glance on those who stood near her; and, unappalled by the presence of royalty, ceased not her search, until the form of Amy met her view. "Ha-ha— ha!" she shouted, "I doubted not that I should find thee;"—and she threw her arms around her, and laid her head on Amy's bosom; who pressed her convulsively to her heart, while a few tears rolled down her pallid cheek; -"I could have borne all my sufferings," she said, "but this sight has overcome my firmness. Mother-mother," -she paused abruptly, and sobs of bitter anguish burst from her. "Hush, hush,” replied Lady Vernon, "I do not own the title of mother; for when I passed the crowd in yon courtyard, they did all point at me, and say I had no daughter. But was it not a hideous vision? I see thee again, my Amy, and hold thee in my arms; thou, why hast thou donned thy silken robe, and put on this coarse one;" she looked earnestly at Amy as she spoke; and then placed both hands on her brow, saying, "I know not what ails this poor heart; it is strange to see no familiar face but thine, my child. Who are they?" she continued, pointing to Mary, and her counsellors. During the frantic harangue of this poor maniac, whose disorder appeared to have been occasioned by the loss of her daughter, the cardinal had in terror viewed the gathering storm on the countenance of the Queen. Her sallow visage flushed, and grew pale, by turns; and her dull, gray eyes appeared suffused with blood, thus rendering her face doubly revolting; she clenched her hand amid her hair, and tore many of the ornaments from her head-gear, and dashed them on the ground. But ere her wrath broke forth, Lady Vernon again spoke: "Why dost thou not tell me who they are?" she said, her thoughts still dwelling on the forms before her, and speaking in the tone of one accustomed to command. "Your sovereign,” replied the Queen in a voice of thunder; “who, methinks, thou mightst have learned to reverence and fear.” "The Queen! the Queen!" shrieked Lady Vernon; "then it is vain for me to sue for mercy, for she was never known to grant it yet. I do remember a story, which was told in my youth, of a ship-wrecked mariner, who, when tossed and buffetted by the waves, did ask and implore the wild sea to have pity on him; surely his appeal was not more vain than mine!" and she clung to her daughter as if for protection. Contrary to the expectation of the cardinal, the Queen seated herself calmly on her throne, and motioning Bonner to her, she spoke for some minutes in a low whisper. He presently quitted the room; and in a short space of time returned again, and placed a roll of parchment beside her, to which she subscribed her name. It was the warrant for the execution of Lady Vernon and her daughter Amy. This act appeared to have quelled her rage, and a flush of satisfaction appeared visible on her face, which was again composed. "When I told thee," she exclaimed, turning to Cardinal Pole, "that the execution should be deferred, I did not think to have been insulted in mine own palace; nay, interrupt me not: thy pleading will avail nothing, my lord; their doom is sealed;" and she cast the parchment on the table with violence, mingled with ill-concealed delight, and soon quitted the assembly. The mother and her child were publicly executed; and, to strike deeper terror into the breasts of those who knew them, their funeral pile was erected in the park of their country seat; and the traveller, should his wanderings lead him to the spot, may still view a moss-covered rock, which marks the place where the bodies of Amy Vernon and her mother were consumed. SONNET. BY MARY HOWITT. I LOOKED up to the heavens, "And art thou there!" I cried, "beloved one, is that thy home? Made answer, mocking every hope benign, Are the ten thousand glorious stars of night |