to depart, Simon Renard advanced to meet her. Returning his ceremonious salutation by a dignified greeting, Jane, with a look of some surprise, inquired the cause of his presence..
“I might have chosen a more fitting season and place for an audience with your majesty,” replied Renard, in the low and silvery tone which he could adopt at pleasure. “But I have that to communicate which emboldens me to break through all forms.”
“Declare it then, sir,” replied the Queen.
Renard glanced significantly at her. She understood him, and motioning her attendants to withdraw to a little distance, they obeyed; and Lady Hastings seized the opportunity of despatching a messenger to her father to acquaint him with the circumstance, as already related.
What was the nature of the disclosure made by the wily ambassador to the Queen, it is not our present purpose to reveal. That it was important was evident from the deep attention she paid to it; and it was apparent, also, from her changing looks and agitated demeanour, that her fears were greatly aroused.
As Renard proceeded, her uneasiness increased so much that she could scarcely support herself, and her attendants were about to hasten to her assistance, when a gesture from the ambassador checked them.
Different inferences were drawn by the various witnesses of this singular interview. But all were satisfied of the ascendancy which Renard had, in some manner, acquired over the youthful sovereign. While glances of triumph were exchanged between the conspiring lords, who watched them from their station in the aisle, the greatest misgivings were experienced by the Ladies Hastings and Herbert. Unable to comprehend the mystery, they were so much struck with the peculiar expression of Jane’s countenance, which precisely resembled the look she wore after the mysterious occurrence in St. John’s Chapel, that they could not help thinking the present conference had some relation to that event.
Renard’s manner, indeed, was so extraordinary that it furnished some clue to the nature of his discourse. Casting off the insinuating tone and deferential deportment with which he had commenced, he gradually assumed a look and accent of command, and almost of menace. His figure dilated, and fixing his black flaming eye upon the trembling Queen, he stamped his foot upon the vacant grave on which he was standing, and said, in a voice so loud that it reached the ears of the listeners, “Your Majesty will never wear your crown in safety till Northumberland lies here.”
Before any answer could be returned, the door of the chapel was suddenly thrown open, and the Duke presented himself. A momentary change passed over Renard’s countenance at this interruption. But he instantly recovered his composure, and folding his arms upon his breast, awaited the result.
Unable to control his indignation, the Duke strode towards them, and flinging his jewelled cap on the ground, drew his sword.
“M. Renard,” he exclaimed, “you are a traitor!”
“To whom, my lord?” replied Renard, calmly.
“To me—to the Queen,” rejoined the Duke.
“If to be your grace’s enemy is to be a traitor, I confess I am one,” retorted Renard sternly. “But I am no traitor to her majesty.”
“It is false!” exclaimed the Duke, furiously. “You are her worst and most dangerous enemy. And nothing but the sacred spot in which you have sought shelter, prevents me from taking instant vengeance upon you.”
Renard smiled disdainfully.
“Your grace threatens safely,” he said, in a taunting tone.
“Insolent!” exclaimed the Duke, roused to a pitch of ungovernable fury. “Draw and defend yourself, or I will strike you dead at my feet.”
“Put up your sword, my lord,” cried Jane, throwing herself between them. “You forget in whose presence you stand.”
“No!” exclaimed Northumberland, “I do not forget. I am in the presence of one who owes her authority to me—and who holds it through me. The same power which made you queen, can as readily unmake you.”
“Your majesty will now judge who is the traitor,” observed Renard, sarcastically.
“I do,” she replied. “I command your grace,” she continued, authoritatively addressing Northumberland, “to quit the chapel instantly.”
“What if I refuse to obey?” rejoined the Duke.
“Your grace will do well not to urge me too far,” replied Jane. “Obey me, or take the consequences.”
“What are they?” cried the Duke contemptuously.
“Your arrest,” said the Earl of Pembroke, laying his hand upon his sword, and advancing. “If his grace will not submit himself to your highness’s authority, we will compel him to do so.”
“Jane!” said the Duke, suddenly controlling himself—“be warned before it is too late. You are in the hands of those who will destroy you.”
“On the contrary,” rejoined Renard, “her majesty is in the hands of those who will uphold her, and destroy you?
“No more of this,” interposed the Queen. “If you are, what you profess yourselves, my faithful subjects, you will reconcile your differences.”
“Never!” exclaimed the Duke. “Let M. Renard look to himself.”
“Another such menace, my lord,” said Jane, “and I place you in arrest.”
“Threatened men live long,” observed Renard. “I beseech your majesty not to place any restraint upon his grace.”
“Will your highness grant me a moment’s speech with you!” said Northumberland, sheathing his sword.
“Not now, my lord,” replied Jane. “To-morrow, at the council, you shall be fully heard. And I charge you, by your allegiance, to cease all hostilities till then. Have I your knightly word for this?”
“You have,” replied the Duke, after a moment’s reflection.
“And yours, M. Renard?” continued the Queen, turning to him.
“Since his grace has passed his word I cannot withhold mine,” replied the ambassador. “But I give it with reluctance.”
“Your grace will not fail to attend the council to-morrow,” said Jane.
“If your highness desires it I will not, undoubtedly,” replied the Duke. “But since you decline to act upon my advice, there can be little need for my presence.”
“My wishes—my commands are, that you attend,” rejoined the Queen.
“Your wishes are commands,” rejoined the Duke. “I will be there.”
“Enough,”
