"I thought so," said Lady Shrewsbury; "and I suppose that must be the event. But I cannot consent, Seymour, to let her go without being first your wife."
"But how can that be accomplished, dear lady?" asked William Seymour. "You know, if we were to apply to any of the bishops, they would carry the tidings forthwith to the King; and if we have the banns published, the fact will be soon all over the Court. We can be married the moment we are across the Channel."
"No, no," answered the Countess, in her usual decided tone; "she goes with you as your wife, or not at all. Do not suppose I think you would wrong her, Seymour; for I am sure you would lose your own life first; but if diamonds are valuable because they are rare--I am sure, so in these days is a good name; and she must not lose hers--no, not for love itself. Nor is the matter difficult, as I shall manage it. We have got a parson here who, though he looks upon us all as what he calls Papists, is my very humble and good servant; and would be a Catholic too, if it was not for fear of losing his living, God wot. Thanks be to heaven, he mumbles like an old woman chewing a crust; and I never yet could discover the person who, when he publishes what he calls the bands of matrimony, could find out who were the people he was going to tie in them. Thus, then, I will have it. You shall stay here three nights, and speed away again on the third morning. You shall show yourself at the Court, and in other places; and after the third Sunday you shall come down hither, where, in this quiet little church, perched up amongst the woods, without a house but the parson's for a mile round, you may take each other for better for worse, without any one knowing aught about it. In the meantime, Seymour, you make all your preparations for departure. Have your ship ready, and your money prepared. My Lord of Hertford will not love you the less for marrying secretly a lady of the Blood Royal; and he is never unwilling to open his purse, for any generous purpose. Shrewsbury and I will give you some help, such as it is, though the times are hard ones; and as, doubtless, the little that our poor Arabella has will be lost for love of you, it must be made up by your love for her. Let there be no writing, in the meantime, till you come again; for we know well enough there are spies abroad."
