“Do not leave me!” she cried, “or summon the guard.”
The words were no sooner spoken, than Renard drew his sword, and placed himself between her and the door.
“I have little to say,” he observed; “but I would have said it to you alone. Since you will have a witness, I am content.”
By this time, Jane had recovered her confidence, and rising, she confronted Renard with a look as stern and haughty as his own.
“What brings you here, sir,” she demanded; “and by what means have you escaped from the White Tower? Are my guards false to their trust?”
“It matters not how I have escaped,” replied Renard. “I am come hither to warn you.”
“Of what?” asked Jane.
“Of the peril in which you stand,” replied Renard. “You are no longer queen. The Duke of Northumberland has disbanded his army, and has himself proclaimed Mary.”
“It is false,” rejoined Jane.
“You will do well not to neglect my caution,” replied Renard. “As yet the news is only known to me. To-morrow it will be known to all within the Tower. Fly! while it is yet time.”
“No,” replied Jane, proudly. “Were your news true, which I doubt, I would not fly. If I must resign my crown, it shall not be at your bidding. But I am still a queen; and you shall feel that I am so. Guards!” she cried in a loud voice. “Arrest this traitor.”
But before the door could be opened, Renard had darted behind the arras and disappeared. Nor, upon searching the wall, could the attendants discover by what means he had contrived his escape. Soon after this, Lord Guilford Dudley returned, and his rage and consternation when he learned what had occurred was unbounded. He flew to the White Tower, where he found that Simon Renard, De Noailles, and the Earls of Pembroke and Arundel, who had been confined in a small room adjoining the council-chamber, had disappeared. The guards affirmed positively that they were not privy to their flight, and unable to obtain any clue to the mystery, Dudley returned in a state of great perplexity to the palace, where a fresh surprise awaited him.
Jane had scarcely recovered from the surprise occasioned by Renard’s mysterious visit, when an usher presented himself, and delivering a ring to her, said that it had been given him by an old woman, who implored an audience. Glancing at the ornament, the queen instantly recognised it as that she had given to Gunnora Braose, and desired the attendant to admit her. Accordingly, the old woman was introduced, and approaching Jane, threw herself on her knees before her.
“What seek you, my good dame?” asked Jane. “I promised to grant any boon you might ask. Are you come to claim fulfilment of my promise?”
“Listen to me, gracious lady,” said the old woman, “and do not slight my counsel, for what I am about to say to you is of the deepest import. Your crown—your liberty—your life is in danger! The council mean to depose you on the morrow, and proclaim Mary queen. Call to mind the warning I gave you before you entered this fatal fortress. My words have come to pass. You are betrayed—lost!”
“Rise, my good woman,” said Jane, “and compose yourself. You may speak the truth. My enemies may prevail against me, but they shall not subdue me. It is now too late to retreat. Having accepted the crown, I cannot—will not—lay it aside, till it is wrested from me.”
“It will be wrested from you on the block, dear lady,” cried Gunnora. “Listen to me, I beseech you. To-night you can make your retreat. To-morrow it will be too late,”
“It is too late already,” cried a stern voice behind them, and Renard again presented himself. He was accompanied by the Earl of Pembroke, and Cholmondeley who was muffled in the jailer’s cloak. “Lady Jane Dudley,” continued the ambassador, in an authoritative voice, “there is one means of saving your life, and only one. Sign this document;” and he extended a parchment towards her. “It is your abdication. Sign it, and I will procure you a free pardon for yourself and your husband from Queen Mary.”