The Miracle at St. Bruno's

How I lived through the rest of that day and the night I cannot be sure. The next day I put on doublet and hose which belonged to Rupert. My hair betrayed me as a woman. Without a moment's hesitation I had seized it in my hand and cut it off. It was thick and I cut it to hang almost to my shoulders. Now with a cap set on it I might have been a boy.

When he saw me Simon stared. "Your beautiful hair!" he cried.

"Doubtless it will grow. And I could not look like a boy with it so I must needs cut it.”

He nodded. Then he said: "You will soon be seventeen, Mistress Damask. You have made yourself look like a boy of twelve.”

"So much the better," I replied, "for since you thought I should wear doublet and hose, you must believe I shall have a greater chance of seeing my father if I am believed to be a boy.”

"So you would sacrifice your beautiful hair for a few brief moments with him.”

"I would sacrifice my life," I said.

"I have always admired you, as I believe I have made you aware-but never so as at this moment.”

And we went down the river together and I shall never forget seeing that grim gray fortress rise before us. How many, I wondered, had looked up at it knowing that somewhere within it lay a loved one? I had heard much of it-of the dungeons from which it was impossible to escape, the dark torture chambers; I had many times seen the great Keep and I knew the names of the I many towers-the White Tower, the Salt Tower, the Bowyer Tower, the Constable Tower and the Bloody Tower in which, not so long before, the two little sons of King Edward IV had been murdered as they slept and their bodies buried, some said, under a secret stair in that very fortress. I had seen the church of St. Peter ad Vincula before which was Tower Green, the grass of which four years before had been stained by the blood of Queen Anne Boleyn, her brother and those men who were said to be her lovers.

And now my own beloved father might be destined to join the band of martyrs.

It was growing dark as we rowed upriver. Simon had said this was the best time to go. In the Lantern Turret lights burned. They were lighted at dusk and kept burning through the night to act as river signals. The river smelled dank and evil. We were now close to the stone walls.

At last we came to rest, the barge was tied to a stake and Simon helped me out.

His warder friend came out of the shadows. "I'll wait here," said Simon.

The warder said: "Watch your step, boy." And I wondered whether he was pretending to think me a boy or knew who I was. My heart was beating wildly but not with fear.

I could think of only one thing: I was going to see my father. The warder thrust a lantern into my hand. "Carry that," he said, "and say nothing." The stone was damp and slippery. I had to watch my steps carefully. I followed him through a passage and we came to a door. He had a bunch of keys and using one of these he opened it.

It was iron studded, and consequently heavy. It creaked as it opened. He carefully locked the door behind us. "Keep close," he said.

I obeyed, and we went up a stone spiral staircase. We were in a stone-floored corridor.

It was very cold. Here and there a lantern burned on the wall.

Before a heavy door the warder paused. He selected a key from his bunch and opened the door. For the moment I could scarcely see anything and then I gave a cry of joy for there he was. I put down the lantern and clung to him.

He said: "Damask. Oh, God, I am dreaming.”

"No, Father. Did you think I would not come?" I seized his hand and kissed it fiercely.

The warder stepped outside the door and stood there; my father and I were alone in the cell.

In a broken voice he said: "Oh, Damask, you should not have come.”

I knew that his joy in seeing me was as great as mine in seeing him, but that his fear for me was even greater.

I laid my cheek against his hand. "Do you think I would not have come? Do you think I would not do anything... anything...”

"My beloved child," he said. Then: "Let me look at you." He took my face in his hands and said: "Your hair.”

"I cut it off," I said. "I had to come here as a boy.”

He held me against him. "Dearest child," he said, "there is much to say and little time to say it in. My thoughts are all for you and your mother. You will have to take care of her.”

"You are coming back to us," I said fiercely.

"If I do not...”

"No, don't say it. You are coming. I will consider nothing else. We will find some way... How could you have done anything wrong? You who have been so good all your life...”

"What is right for some of us is wrong in the eyes of others. That is the trouble in the world, Damask.”

"This man... he had no right to come to you... He had no right to ask you to hide him.”

"He did not ask. I offered. Would you have me turn away a friend? But let us not talk of what is past. It is the future I think of. Constantly I think of you, my dearest child. It gives me great comfort. Do you remember our talks... our walks...”

"Oh, Father, I cannot bear it.”