Arabella Stuart. G. P. R. James

and 'twere a needless policy to let me think you love me, if you did not. One frown, one word, one cold look, were enough to crush out all the hopes you have raised, and snatch the blessing from me. Why should you deceive me? Oh, no--I am as confident of you as Heaven, and nothing shall ever make me doubt."

      Arabella put her hand in his, and gazed upon him with a look of melancholy tenderness that, had there been a doubt, would have banished it for ever.

      "Oh, no!" she said; "though I may never be yours, I shall never love but you; and whom should I trust but him I love? Yet before I do trust you fully, Seymour, and ask for your advice, you must promise me--for you men are sad, headstrong creatures, and we must ever bind you with some chain--that you will never reveal what I have told, or shown, or asked you--nay, even if I follow not your counsel."

      "That promise is soon made, Arabella," he replied; "indeed, I should feel the engagement binding on me were no promise given; and, as to advice, you shall have the best my mind will afford, though in times so difficult as these, it is sometimes hard to say what is the wisest course."

      "Well, then, read that," said the lady, "and tell me how I should act."

      Seymour took the letter which she placed in his hand, opened it, and read. The effect upon him was scarcely less strong than it had been upon Arabella. His brow contracted, his lip quivered, his eye took an eager and anxious expression; and, at the end, he turned back again and read it through once more. Then gazing in the lady's face, he exclaimed, "Oh, Arabella! Have you ever given encouragement to such designs as these?"

      "Never, never!" cried Arabella, "not even in my most secret thoughts."

      "There may be men," continued Seymour, in a musing tone, "who think that in offering you a crown they would increase your happiness; and had I one to bestow, out of all the world I would choose you to wear it. But far, far rather, did I possess one myself, would I lay it down to share with you a humbler and a happier lot than raise you to the golden misery which ever rests upon a throne. Your virtues may deserve the highest station, Arabella; but believe me, dearest, power is not happiness."

      "Except the power of blessing those we love," she answered, laying her hand on his arm.

      "But were you England's queen to-morrow," he continued, "you never could be mine. Remember Elizabeth herself, despotic as ever eastern sovereign was, ventured not to raise a subject to the throne, though no one doubts her wishes; and, besides, see what these men propose, that you should give pledges to a foreign potentate to be guided by him in the disposal of your hand. Here is evidently a bar to your free choice. Even if their schemes were feasible, or had a probability of success, which they have not, what would you become? A slave of a foreign prince, and not a queen. But why smile you, Arabella?"

      "To see William Seymour argue," she replied, "as if such vain schemes and treasonable folly could wake in my breast one idle thought in favour of that which you justly call a golden misery. Besides, Seymour, I am neither unjust, a traitor, nor a fool. I would not be a usurper for the diadem of the whole world. James's is the right; he is next in blood to the last monarch, and I have no claim at all. As to what Lord Cobham says regarding exclusion of aliens from the throne, 'tis but a pretence as empty as the wind. I never can hold that man to be an alien who is born within these isles. Nature made them one, marked them out for one empire, and rolled the barrier of the sea around them to separate them from all the rest of the earth, as the habitation of one people under one monarch. It is vain to struggle against the plans of God. Men may mark out frontiers, and draw lines, and strive for a mile or two of barren border land this way or that; but the limits fixed by nature will stand fast, and ultimately be recognised by all. No, no; James is no alien; and though, to say sooth, I never was more disappointed in the aspect of a man, yet he is King of England, and, for me, shall ever remain so. Besides," she continued, "do you suppose that I would give up my humble freedom for the gemmed thraldom of a throne; to have no privacy; to live with the thousand eyes of policy upon me; to have my very thoughts watched; to make my very mind a slave to others; my heart, with all its affections, a bondman to the petty policies of state. Oh, no, Seymour, no!--if they were here before me, with the crown at my feet, ay, and could add France to England, and take in Spain, with all the golden Indies and their mines, I would not, if a choice were left me, give them another look.--It was not that on which I asked advice."

      "What then?" said Seymour, who had been gazing on her with love and admiration in his eyes.

      "It is what I am to do with this treasonable paper, that I seek to know," she answered, taking it from his hand, and gazing vacantly upon it. "It is, I fear, my duty to send it to the King; and yet I would not for all the world bring on my head the blood of those who sought to serve me even wrongfully; and yet----"

      "If you do not," replied Seymour, "you peril your own life. Nay, more; should any attempt be made in consequence of this scheme--should they, notwithstanding a cold and reproving answer from you, seize on the King, put him to death, involve the land in civil war, and cause all the bloodshed and confusion which little more than a century ago stained all our fair fields and desolated our happy homes, what would Arabella feel, when she remembered that, from the fear of bringing bad men to punishment, she suffered all these things to arise, when she could have averted them? Shut our eyes how we will, he who conceals treason is a traitor. Besides, my beloved, you must not think that it is love for you that moves these men. It is their own selfish interests, their own passions, their own ambition. 'Tis that the King has slighted Cobham, done some wrong to Raleigh, offended this man, disappointed that, hurt the pride of another--'tis this that moves them--no deep devotion to Arabella Stuart."

      "Say no more, say no more," said the lady; "I fear it is my duty; and, however grievous, I must perform it. What you urge is true; did I conceal this, and the plot take effect, even so far as bringing civil war into the land, I should never know peace again. But tell me, Seymour--counsel me, how I may treat the matter so as to move the indignation of the King as little as possible against these misguided men. It is not long since I had to tell him of other overtures, not so distinct in truth as these, but still evidently treasonable in their kind. He then took little heed; and perhaps, if I manage rightly, he may deal with this scheme as lightly."

      "I fear he will not," answered Seymour; "yet it is but wise to calculate how you may follow the voice of duty, and yet excite as little wrath as may be against those who have certainly deserved it."

      He paused, and thought for several moments, adding at length, with a faint smile, "Were I you, I would treat it lightly, Arabella. We often by the tone and manner in which we speak of things, give them, in the first impressions, such importance that they can never after be dealt with as trifles. But if we speak of them as matters of small moment in the beginning, they are sure, if they be really of weight, to find their proper estimation in the end.--I would treat it lightly. My Arabella has a custom, with a gay and laughing humour, to cover from the eyes of most men the deeper treasures of her heart, like those bright streams I have seen in another land, which, under the sparkling ripple of their waters, conceal their sands of gold. This art which you have used----"

      "Have you found out that?" she asked. "Love must, indeed, be a diviner, then; for never, even to the companions of my youth, have I shown, by word or hint, that my gaiety was more upon the lip than in the heart."

      "But you have shown me the heart, too," replied Seymour; "and as I was saying, this art, which you have used to cover your feelings on many subjects, may well be employed now, to hide what you think of this. Treat the matter as an idle jest--a thing of no importance--too foolish to be judged seriously; and thus, perhaps, the King--especially if Cecil be not near him, which he was not when I came away--may take measures to avert all danger, and yet not think the subject so important as to require the sword of justice. He is of a light and trifling disposition, given to the discussion of fine subtleties, full of learned importance and self-satisfaction, but, I should think, not cruel."

      "I do not know," said Arabella, thoughtfully. "Placed amidst perilous rocks, the pilot watches narrowly each ripple on the surface of the sea. Thus, in the dangers of a position too high for safety, and too low for power, I have scanned narrowly the actions and demeanours of men, and I have always remarked, that those who are the fondest of trifles, and give little weight