“What would you, reverend sir?” said Jane, halting with the others, and addressing Feckenham, who advanced towards her, holding in his hand a piece of parchment to which a large seal was attached.
“I would save you, daughter,” replied the confessor. “I here bring you the queen’s pardon.”
“Is it unconditional, reverend sir?” demanded Jane, coldly.
“The sole condition annexed to it is your reconciliation with the church of Rome,” replied Feckenham.
“Then I at once reject it,” rejoined Jane, firmly. “I have already told you I should prefer death a thousand-fold to any violation of my conscience; and neither persuasion nor force shall compel me to embrace a religion opposed to the gospel of our Saviour, and which, in common with all his true disciples, I hold in utter abhorrence. I take all here to witness that such are my sentiments, that I am an earnest and zealous, though unworthy member of the Protestant church, and that I am fully prepared to seal my faith with my blood.”
A slight murmur of approbation arose from the guard, which, however, was instantly checked by the officers.
“And I likewise take all here to witness,” rejoined Feckenham, in a loud voice, “that a full and free pardon is offered you by our gracious queen, whom you have so grievously offended, that no one except a princess of her tender and compassionate nature would have overlooked it; coupled only with a condition which it is her assured belief will conduce as much to your eternal welfare as to your temporal. It has been made a reproach to our church by its enemies, that it seeks to win converts by severity and restraint. That the charge is unfounded her highness’s present merciful conduct proves. We seek to save the souls of our opponents, however endangered by heresy, alive; and our first attempts are ever gentle. If these fail, and we are compelled to have recourse to harsher measures, is it our fault, or the fault of those who resist us? Thus, in your own case, madam, here, on the way to a trial the issue of which all can foresee, the arm of mercy is stretched out to you and to your husband, on a condition which, if you were not benighted in error, you would recognise as an additional grace,—and yet you turn it aside.”
“The sum of her majesty’s mercy is this,” replied Jane; “she would kill my soul to preserve my body. I care not for the latter, but I regard the former. Were I to embrace your faith, I should renounce all hopes of heaven. Are you answered, sir?”
“I am,” replied Feckenham. “But oh! madam,” he added, falling at her feet; “believe not that I urge you to compliance from any unworthy motive. My zeal for your salvation is hearty and sincere.”
“I doubt it not, sir,” rejoined Jane. “And I thank you for your solicitude.”
“Anger not the queen by a refusal,” proceeded Feckenham; “anger not heaven, whose minister I am, by a blind and obstinate rejection of the truth, but secure the favour of both your earthly and your celestial judge by compliance.”
“I should indeed anger heaven were I to listen to you further,” replied Jane. “Gentlemen,” she added, turning to the officers, “I pray you proceed. The tribunal to which you are about to conduct me waits for us.”
Feckenham arose, and would have given utterance to the denunciation that rose to his lips, had not Jane’s gentle look prevented him. Bowing his head upon his breast, he withdrew, while the procession proceeded on its course, in the same order as before.
On reaching the Bulwark Gate, Jane was placed in a litter, stationed there for her reception, and conveyed through vast crowds of spectators, who, however, were unable to obtain even a glimpse of her, to Guildhall, where she was immediately brought before her judges. The sight of her husband standing at the bar, guarded by two halberdiers, well-nigh overpowered her; but she was immediately reassured by his calm, collected, and even haughty demeanour. He cast a single glance of the deepest affection at her, and then fixed his gaze upon the Marquis of Winchester, high treasurer of the realm, who officiated as chief judge.
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