“And now hear my news,” continued the old woman, with a smile of exultation. “Your father has proclaimed Queen Mary at Cambridge.”
“Impossible!” cried Dudley.
“I tell you it is true,” replied Gunnora; “a messenger arrived at midnight with the tidings, and it was during the confusion created by the intelligence that I contrived to effect your escape. The Earl of Arundel is despatched to arrest him, and, ere tomorrow night, he will be lodged within the Tower. Yes,” she continued with a ferocious laugh, “I shall see him placed in the same dungeon in which he lodged my foster-son, the great Duke of Somerset. I shall see his head stricken off by the same axe, and upon the same scaffold, and I shall die content.”
“Horrible!” cried Jane. “Leave us, wretched woman. Your presence adds to my affliction.”
“I will leave you, dear lady,” replied Gunnora, “but though absent from you, I will not fail to watch over you. I have powerful friends within the Tower, and if any ill be designed you, I will give you timely warning. Farewell!”
A miserable and anxious day was passed by Jane and her husband. Lord Guilford would fain have departed with Cholmondeley to join his father at Cambridge, but suffered himself to be dissuaded from the rash undertaking, by the tears and entreaties of his consort. As to Cicely and her lover, their sympathies were so strongly excited for the distresses of Jane, that the happiness they would otherwise have experienced in each other’s society was wholly destroyed. At night, as the little party were assembled, Gunnora Braose again made her appearance, and her countenance bespoke that some new danger was at hand.
“What ill tidings do you bring?” cried Dudley, starting to his feet.
“Fly!” exclaimed Gunnora. “You have not a moment to lose. Simon Renard has discovered your retreat, and Lord Clinton, with a body of men, is hastening hither to convey you to the Tower. Fly!”
“Whither?” exclaimed Lord Guilford. “Whither shall we fly?”
“It is useless, my dear lord,” replied Jane, calmly, “to contend further. I resign myself to the hands of Providence, and I counsel you to do the same.”
“Come then with me, Cholmondeley,” cried Dudley, snatching up his cloak, and girding on his sword, “we will to horse at once, and join my father at Cambridge. If he has a handful of men left we can yet make a gallant defence.”
“The duke is arrested, and on his way to the Tower,” said Gunnora.
“Ha!” exclaimed Dudley, “when did this occur?”
“Yesterday,” replied the old woman. “He was taken within his chamber by my grandson, Gilbert Pot, who has received a hundred pounds in lands, and the degree of an esquire, for the deed. He submitted himself to the Earl of Arundel, and his deportment was as abject as it formerly was arrogant. When he saw the earl, he fell on his knees, and desired him to have pity on him for the love of God. ‘Consider,’ he said, ‘I have done nothing but by the order of you and the whole council.’ Then the Earl of Arundel replied, ‘I am sent hither by the queen’s majesty, and in her name I arrest you.’ ‘And I obey it, my lord,’ answered the duke. ‘I beseech you use mercy towards me, knowing the case as it is.’ ‘My lord,’ rejoined the earl, ‘you should have sought mercy sooner. I must do according to my commandment. You are my prisoner!’ And he committed him in charge to my grandson and others of the guard.”
“How learnt you this?” inquired Lord Guilford.
“From a messenger who has just arrived at the Tower,” replied the old woman, “and this is the last act of the great Duke of Northumberland. We shall soon see how he comports himself on the scaffold.”
“Begone,” cried Jane, “and do not stay here to deride our misery.”
“I am not come hither to deride it,” replied the old woman, “but to warn you.”
“I thank you for your solicitude,” replied Jane, “but, it is needless. Retire all of you, I entreat, and leave me with my husband.”
Her injunctions were immediately complied with, and her attendants withdrew. The unfortunate pair were not, however, allowed much time for conversation. Before they had been many minutes alone, the door was burst open, and a troop of armed men headed by Lord Clinton, the lieutenant of the Tower, rushed in.
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