Читать книгу Cardinal Pole; Or, The Days of Philip and Mary. An Historical Romance онлайн

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No sooner was Philip freed from his assailants, than he turned to express his gratitude to Constance.

“I owe my life to you,” he said; “nay, more, you have risked your own life to preserve mine. How can I requite you?”

“By forgetting that you have ever beheld me,” she replied.

“That were impossible,” he rejoined. “Ask something that I can perform.”

“I desire nothing,” she returned; “and, indeed, I do not merit your gratitude. It is the hand of Heaven that has guarded your Highness, not mine—guarded you for the Queen, to whom your safety is dearer than her own life, and who might not have survived your loss. I must now retire for a short space, to compose myself ere I return home. Once more, I implore you to forget me. Farewell for ever!”

And without another word, and in spite of Philip’s appealing looks, she entered the hospital with Dorcas.

“It would be well if I could forget her,” thought Philip, as Constance disappeared; “but that is beyond my power. I could not tear her from my heart without a pang greater than I could endure. Yet it would be a crime to trouble the peace of one so pure and holy-minded. No matter! I should be wretched without her. Come what will, we must meet again.”