third short flight of steps, at the top of which was a trap-door. It was opened by the guide, and admitted them into a small stone chamber, the walls of which appeared, from the embrazures of the windows, to be of immense thickness. The roof was groined and arched. In the centre of the room stood a small table, on which some provisions were placed. A small copper lamp, suspended from the roof, threw a sickly light around, and discovered a little pallet stretched in a recess on the right.
“You are now in the Bowyer’s Tower, in the chamber where it is said the Duke of Clarence was drowned in the butt of malmsey,” observed the stranger. “Here you will remain till your presence is required by the Council.”
Gunnora would have remonstrated, but the stranger waved his hand to her to keep silence, and, followed by his attendants, descended through the trap-door, which was closed and bolted beneath.
X.—HOW THE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND MENACED SIMON RENARD IN SAINT PETER’S CHAPEL ON THE TOWER-GREEN; AND HOW QUEEN JANE INTERPOSED BETWEEN THEM.
It will now be proper to ascertain how far the Duke of Northumberland was justified in his suspicion of Queen Jane’s conduct being influenced by some secret and adverse counsel. After the abrupt departure of Lord Guilford Dudley for Sion House, as before related, she was greatly distressed, and refused at first to credit the intelligence. But when it was confirmed beyond all doubt by a message from her husband himself, declaring that he would not return till she had acceded to his request, she burst into tears, and withdrew to her own chamber, where she remained for some time alone.
When she re-appeared, it was evident from her altered looks that she had suffered deeply. But it was evident also, from her composure of countenance and firmness of manner, that whatever resolution she had formed she would adhere to it.
Summoning the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke to her presence, she briefly explained to them that she had heard, with infinite concern and uneasiness, that the council had proposed to raise her husband to the throne, because she foresaw that it would breed trouble and dissatisfaction, and greatly endanger her own government.
“Your highness judges rightly,” replied the Earl of Pembroke. “It will be said that in thus elevating his son, Northumberland seeks only his own aggrandisement.”
“And it will be truly said, my lord,” rejoined Jane. “But if this is your opinion, why was your voice given in favour of the measure?”
“No man is bound to accuse himself,” replied Pembroke.
“But every man is bound to speak truth, my lord,” rejoined Jane. “Again I ask you, why your assent was given to this measure, which, by your own admission, is fraught with danger?”
“The Duke of Northumberland is my enemy,” replied the Earl, sternly. “Had this step been taken it would have ensured his destruction.”
“You speak frankly, my lord,” rejoined the Queen. “But you forget that it must have ensured my destruction also.”
“I am a loyal subject of your majesty,” replied the Earl of Pembroke, “and will shed my last drop of blood in the defence of your crown. But I will not submit to the Duke’s imperious conduct.”
“And yet, my lord, you owe your own dignity to him,” rejoined Jane, sarcastically. “Sir William Herbert would not have been Earl of Pembroke but for the Duke’s intercession with our cousin Edward. For shame, my lord! you owe him too much to act against him.”
“I owe him nothing,” interposed the Earl of Arundel, “and may therefore speak without risk of any such imputation as your majesty has thrown out against Lord Pembroke. If the overweening power of the Duke of Northumberland be not checked, it will end in his downfal, and the downfal of all those with whom he is connected.”
“I thank you for your counsel, my lord,” replied the Queen; “and, setting down much to your private animosity, will place the rest to loyalty to myself.”
“Your highness will be speedily satisfied of the truth of my assertion, if you refuse compliance with Northumberland’s demands,” replied Pembroke. “But you will find it, unless you have recourse to strong measures, a difficult and a dangerous game to play.”
“To one who, though so young in years, is yet so old in wisdom as your majesty,” added the Earl of Arundel, “it will be needless to say, that on the first decisive movement of your reign—as on that of a battle—depends the victory. If you yield, all is lost. From this one step the Duke will estimate your character, and become either your servant or your master. From his conduct, also, you will know what to expect from him hereafter.”
“My resolution is taken, my lords,” returned the Queen.
“The course I have resolved upon in reference to the duke, you will learn when I meet you in the council-chamber, where he will be present to speak for himself—and, if need be, defend himself. My desire is that my reign should begin and proceed in peace. And, if you hope for my favour, you will forget your differences with his grace, and act in concert with me. In asserting my own power, I trust I shall convince him of the futility of any further struggle with me, and so bring him to a sense of duty.”
“Your majesty may depend upon the full support of your council,” rejoined Arundel.
“I doubt it not, my lord,” replied Jane. “And now to the business on which I summoned you. It may have reached you that my dear lord has departed this morning for Sion House, in great displeasure that I have refused to comply with his wishes.”
“We have heard as much,” replied both noblemen.
“My desire is that you hasten after him and entreat him to return with all speed,” pursued Jane.
“Your majesty then consents!” exclaimed Pembroke, hastily.
“Not so, my lord,” replied the Queen. “I will raise him to his father’s rank. He shall have a dukedom, but not a kingdom.”
“I would counsel your majesty to reflect ere you concede thus much,” observed Arundel.
“I have already said that my resolution is taken,” replied the Queen. “Repeat what I have told you to him, and entreat him to return.”
“Entreat him!” echoed Pembroke scornfully. “It is not for your highness to entreat, but to command. Obedience sworn at the altar by the lips of the Queen of England, is cancelled as soon as uttered. Your husband is your subject. Empower us to bring him to you, and he shall be at your feet within an hour.”
“My pleasure is that you literally fulfil my injunctions, my lords,” replied the Queen. “Lord Guilford Dudley was the husband of my choice. When I gave my hand to him at the altar, I had no thought that it would ever grasp a sceptre, Nor, till I obtained this unlooked-for—and, believe me, most unwished-for
