Still John Heywood stood and listened, firmly resolved to speak to the queen yet that night, even should he be obliged to wake her from sleep.

Only he wanted to wait till the maid of honor also had left the queen's room.
Now the door opened, and the maid of honor came out.

She crossed the corridor to that side where her own apartments were situated.

John Heywood heard her open the door and then slide the bolt on the inside.
"Now but a brief time longer, and I will go to the queen," muttered John Heywood.
He was just going to leave his lurking-place, when he perceived a noise as if a door were slowly and cautiously opened.
John Heywood cowered again close behind the pillar, and held his breath to listen.
A bright light fell over the corridor.

A dress came rustling nearer and nearer.
John Heywood gazed astounded and amazed at the figure, which just brushed past without seeing him.
That figure was Lady Jane Douglas--Lady Jane, who, on account of indisposition, had retired from the feast in order to betake herself to rest.