“Poor Lady Jane!” exclaimed Mary, in a compassionate tone. “She is very young—very beautiful. I would rather reconcile her to our church than doom her to the block.”
“I do not despair of being able to accomplish her conversion,” said Gardiner, “though she is an obstinate heretic. I have appointed to-morrow for a conference with her on the subject of her religion, and I trust to be able to convince her of her errors.”
“With your lordship’s permission, I will attend the conference,” said Renard.
“By all means,” replied Gardiner. “It will take place in the Beauchamp Tower. Her husband, Lord Guilford Dudley, has become a proselyte, and they will be both present at the disputation.”
“I leave the care of her soul in your hands, my lord,” replied Mary. “And now I must to my own devotions.”
So saying, she dismissed them, and proceeded to an oratory, where she was joined by her confessor, Feckenham.
On issuing from the audience-chamber, Renard perceived De Noailles and Courtenay pacing the gallery.
“I have waited for you, sir,” said the latter, advancing to meet him.
“I am sorry to have detained your lordship so long,” replied Renard.
“Apologies are needless,” rejoined Courtenay. “M. Renard, you are a double-faced villain.”
“Rail on, my lord, and welcome,” replied Renard, contemptuously. “Your ill-humour has no effect on me!”
“Coward! will not that move you?” cried Courtenay, taking off his glove, and striking him with it in the face.
“Ha!” exclaimed Renard fiercely, and half-unsheathing his sword. “Follow me, my lord, and you shall find me as prompt to avenge an insult as you can be to offer one.”
“My lord,” interposed De Noailles, “and you, M. Renard, I warn you before you proceed further in this quarrel, that it will deeply offend the queen.”
“It was not my seeking,” replied Renard, sternly. “But since it is forced upon me, I will not be stayed. As his lordship has found no difficulty in duping her majesty with a feigned passion, so, if he survives, he may readily make out his case by an equally false statement that I was the aggressor.”
“Insolent!” cried Courtenay. “Fool that I was to place any faith in one in whom the whole perfidy of his country seems concentred. Follow me, and quickly, or I will repeat the blow—unless,” he added with bitter scorn, “like your own arrogant but cowardly nation you prefer avenging it by assassination.”
“The cowardice will be yours, my lord,” rejoined Renard, haughtily, “if you attempt to repeat the blow—nay, if you tarry here longer, I shall think you desire to attract the attention of some of her majesty’s attendants, and by causing us to be arrested, contrive to escape my vengeance.”
“Trust me, sir, I have no such intention,” replied Courtenay. “An Englishman never deals a blow without allowing his adversary to return it. M. De Noailles, I request your attendance at the duel. It will be a mortal combat, for I will neither give mercy nor receive it from this perfidious villain.”
“Pardon me, my lord, if I refuse your request,” replied De Noailles. “I pledge my word that I will not interrupt you, nor cause you to be interrupted during the adjustment of your differences. But I will be no party to the duel.”
“As you please,” replied Courtenay. “Come then, sir,” he added, turning to Renard, “and let the recollection of the insult I have offered you be fresh in your memory.”
“M. De Noailles,” said Renard, “I take you to witness before I depart, that I have not sought this quarrel. Whatever ensues, you will avouch the truth.”
“Undoubtedly,” replied De Noailles. “Whither are you going?” he demanded.
“To the palace-garden,” replied Courtenay. “It is the only place in the Tower where we can be free from interruption. Beneath the trees we shall be unobserved.”
“Lead on then, my lord,” cried Renard, impatiently. “The affair ought to have been arranged by this time.”
Hastily quitting the corridor, they descended the grand staircase, and traversing with rapid steps a long suite of apartments, passed through a small door opening from the range of building called the queen’s gallery, upon the privy garden. At the western angle of this garden stood a grove of trees, and thinking themselves unobserved they hastened towards it.