Book 1 — XV.—HOW GUNNORA BRAOSE SOUGHT AN AUDIENCE OF QUEEN JANE.

Having seen the rest of the council conveyed to the White Tower, Lord Guilford Dudley returned to the palace. While discoursing on other matters with the queen, he casually remarked that he was surprised he did not perceive his esquire, Cuthbert Cholmondeley, in her highness’s train, and was answered that he had not been seen since his departure for Sion House. Greatly surprised by the intelligence, Lord Guilford directed an attendant to make inquiries about him. After some time, the man returned, stating that he could obtain no information respecting him.

“This is very extraordinary,” said Lord Guilford. “Poor Cholmondeley! What can have happened to him? As soon as this danger is past, I will make personal search for him.”

“I thought he had left the Tower with you, my dear lord,” observed Jane.

“Would he had!” answered her husband. “I cannot help suspecting he has incurred the enmity of the council, and has been secretly removed. I will interrogate them on the subject tomorrow.”

While they were thus conversing, an usher appeared, and informed the queen that a young damsel supplicated an audience having somewhat to disclose of importance.

“You had better admit her, my queen,” said Dudley. “She may have accidentally learned some plot which it is important for us to know.”

Jane having signified her assent, the usher withdrew, and presently afterwards introduced Cicely. The young damsel, who appeared to have suffered much, greatly interested the queen by her extreme beauty and modesty. She narrated her story with infinite simplicity, and though she blushed deeply when she came to speak of the love professed for her by Cholmondeley, she attempted no concealment.

Both Jane and Lord Guilford Dudley were astonished beyond measure, when they learned that the young esquire had been incarcerated by Nightgall; and the latter was about to reproach Cicely for not having revealed the circumstance before, when she accounted for her silence by stating that she had been locked within her chamber, ever since the night in question, by her mother. Her story ended, Dudley declared his intention of seeking out the jailor without delay. “I will first compel him to liberate his prisoner,” he said, “and will then inflict upon him a punishment proportionate to his offence.”

“Alas!” exclaimed Cicely, bursting into tears, “I fear your lordship’s assistance will come too late. Nightgall has visited me daily, and he asserts that Master Cholmondeley has quitted the Tower by some secret passage under the moat. I fear he has destroyed him.”

“If it be so, he shall die the death he merits,” replied Dudley. “You say that the gigantic warders, whose lodging is in the By-ward Tower, are acquainted with the dungeon. I will proceed thither at once, be of good cheer, fair damsel. If your lover is alive he shall wed you on the morrow, and I will put it out of Nightgall’s power to molest you further. Remain with the queen till I return.”

“Ay, do so, child,” said Jane, “I shall be glad to have you with me. And, if you desire it, you shall remain constantly near my person.”

“It is more happiness than I deserve, gracious madam,” replied Cicely, dropping upon her knee. “And though your majesty has many attendants more highly born, you will find none more faithful.”

“I fully believe it,” replied Jane, with a sigh. “Rise, damsel. Henceforth you are one of my attendants.”

Cicely replied by a look of speechless gratitude, while summoning a guard, Dudley proceeded to the By-ward Tower. The giants informed him they had just returned from Nightgall’s lodging, and that he was absent. He then commanded them to accompany him to the entrance of the subterranean dungeons beneath the Devilin Tower.

“It will be useless to attempt to gain admission without the keys, my lord,” replied Og; “and they are in master Nightgall’s keeping.”

“Has no one else a key? demanded Dudley, impatiently.

“No one, unless it be Gillian Mauger, the headsman,” replied Xit; “I will bring him to your lordship, instantly.”

So saying, he hurried off in search of the executioner, while Dudley, attended by the two giants, proceeded slowly in the direction of the Beauchamp Tower. In a short time, the dwarf returned with Mauger, who limped after him as quickly as a lame leg would permit. He had no key of the dungeon, and on being questioned, declared there was no other entrance to it.

“Break open the door instantly, then,” cried Dudley.

Mauger declared this was impossible, as it was cased with iron, and fastened with a lock of great strength.

Magog, who was standing at a little distance with his arms folded upon his breast, now stepped forward, and, without saying a word, lifted up a large block of stone placed there to repair the walls, and hurling it against the door, instantly burst it open.

“Bravely done,” cried Lord Guilford. “How can I reward the service?”

“I scarcely know how to ask it of your lordship,” rejoined Magog; “but if you could prevail upon her majesty to issue her commands to Dame Placida Paston to bestow her hand upon me, you would make me the happiest of mankind.”

“If the dame be willing, surely she does not require enforcement,” replied Dudley, laughing; “and if not”——

“She has half promised her hand to me, my lord,” said Xit, “and your lordship can scarcely doubt to whom she would give the preference.”

“She has indeed a fair choice betwixt giant and dwarf I must own,” replied Dudley. “But bring torches and follow me. More serious business now claims my attention.”

“I will guide your lordship through these dungeons,” said Xit. “I have often accompanied Master Nightgall in his visits, and can conduct you to every cell.”

“Lead on then,” said Dudley.

After traversing a vast number of passages, and examining many cells, all of which were vacant, they at length came to the dungeon where Cholmondeley had been confined. Here they found Nightgall, who at first attempted to exculpate himself, and made a variety of wild accusations against the esquire, but when he found he was utterly disbelieved, he confessed the whole truth. Dismissing some of his companions in search of the esquire, who it was evident, if the jailor’s statement was to be credited, must have lost himself in some of the passages. Dudley was about to follow them, when Nightgall flung himself at his feet, and offered, if his life were spared, to reveal all the secret practices of the Council which had come to his knowledge. Dudley then ordered the rest of his attendants to withdraw, and was so much astonished at Nightgall’s communication, that he determined upon instantly conveying him to the palace. After a long, but ineffectual search for Chomondeley, whose escape has already been related, Dudley contented himself with leaving Xit and Og to look for him; and placing Nightgall in the custody of the two other giants, returned with him to the palace.

While this was passing, the queen had received an unexpected visit. She had retired to her closet with Cicely, and was listening to a recapitulation of the young damsel’s love affair, when the hangings were suddenly drawn aside, and Simon Renard stepped from a masked door in the wall. Surprise for a moment held her silent, and Cicely was so much astonished by the appearance of the intruder, and so much alarmed by his stern looks, that she stood like one petrified. Renard’s deportment, indeed, was most formidable, and could not fail to impress them both with terror. He said nothing for a moment, but fixed his black flaming eyes menacingly on the queen. As she remained speechless, he motioned Cicely to withdraw, and she would have obeyed had not Jane grasped her arm and detained her.

“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.”

“Mary is not queen,—nor will I sign it,” replied Jane. “Then hear me,” replied Renard. “In Queen Mary’s name, I denounce you as an usurper. And if you further attempt to exercise the functions of royalty, you will not escape the block.”

“He does not overrate your danger,” interposed Gunnora.

“What make you here, old woman?” said Renard, addressing her.

“I have come on the same errand as yourself,” she replied, “to warn this noble, but ill-advised lady of her peril.”

“Have you likewise informed her why you were brought to the Tower?” demanded Renard, sternly.

“No,” replied Gunnora.

“Then she shall learn it from me,” continued the ambassador, “though it is not the season I would have chosen for the disclosure. This woman administered poison to your predecessor, Edward VI, by order of the Duke of Northumberland.”

“It is false,” cried Jane, “I will not believe it.”

“It is true,” said Gunnora.

“Wretch! you condemn yourself,” said Jane.

“I know it,” rejoined Gunnora; “but place me on the rack, and I will repeat the charge.”

“What motive could the duke have for so foul a crime?” demanded the queen.

“This,” replied Gunnora; “he wished to remove the king so suddenly, that the princesses Mary and Elizabeth might have no intelligence of his decease. But this is not all, madam.”

“What more remains to be told?” asked Jane.

“You were to be the next victim,” returned the old woman.

“Northumberland aimed at the supreme power. With this view, he wedded you to his son; with this view, he procured the letters patent from King Edward declaring you his successor; with this view, he proclaimed you queen, raised you to the throne, and would have made your husband king. His next step was to have poisoned you.”

“Poisoned me!” exclaimed Jane, horror-stricken.

“Ay, poisoned you,” repeated Gunnora. “I was to administer the fatal draught to you as I did to Edward. It was therefore I warned you not to enter the Tower. It was therefore I counselled you to resign a sceptre which I knew you could not sustain. I saw you decked out like a victim for the sacrifice, and I strove to avert the fatal blow—but in vain.”

“Alas! I begin to find your words are true,” replied Jane. “But if aught remains to me of power, if I am not a queen merely in name, I will now exert it. My lord of Pembroke, I command you to summon the guard, and arrest this traitor,” pointing to Simon Renard. “I will not sleep till I have had his head. How, my lord, do you refuse to obey me? Hesitate, and you shall share his doom.”

At this moment, Cholmondeley threw off his cloak, and advancing towards the ambassador, said, “M. Simon Renard, you are the queen’s prisoner.”

“Cholmondeley!” exclaimed Renard, starting; “can it be?”

“It is, traitor,” replied the esquire; “but I will now unmask you and your projects.”

“Back, sir!” cried Renard, in a tone so authoritative that all were overawed by it. “Lay hands upon me, and I give a signal which will cause a general massacre, in which none of Queen Mary’s enemies will be spared. Lady Jane Dudley,” he continued, addressing her, “I give you till to-morrow to reflect upon what course you will pursue. Resign the crown you have wrongfully assumed, and I pledge my word to obtain your pardon. But Northumberland’s life is forfeited, and that of all his race.”

“Think you I will sacrifice my husband, traitor?” cried Jane. “Seize him,” she added, to Cholmondeley.

But before the young man could advance, Renard had unsheathed his sword, and placed himself in a posture of defence. “Lady Jane Dudley,” he ejaculated, “I give you till to-morrow. Your own conduct will decide your fate.”

“Call the guard,” cried Jane.

The young esquire vainly endeavoured to obey this command, but he was attacked and beaten off by the ambassador and the Earl of Pembroke, who quickly retreating towards the masked door, passed through it, and closed it after them. At this juncture, Lord Guilford Dudley returned at the head of the guard. The occurrences of the last few minutes were hastily explained to him, and he was about to break open the secret door, when Nightgall said, “If I have a free pardon, I will conduct your lordship to the secret retreat of the Council, and unravel a plot which shall place them in your power.”

“Do this,” replied Lord Guilford, “and you shall not only have a free pardon, but a great reward.”

“Take a sufficient guard with you, and follow me,” rejoined Nightgall.

Dudley complied, and the party proceeded on their errand, while Cholmondeley remained with the queen and Cicely; and although his transports at beholding her again were somewhat alloyed by the perilous position in which Jane stood, he nevertheless tasted sufficient happiness to recompense him in some degree for his recent misery. Withdrawing to another apartment, Jane awaited in the utmost anxiety her husband’s return. This did not occur for some hours, and when he appeared she saw at once, from his looks, that his search had been unsuccessful.

The remainder of the night was passed between the queen and her consort in anxious deliberation. Cholmondeley was entrusted with the command of the guard, and after a few hours’ rest and other refreshment, of which he stood greatly in need, he proceeded with Lord Clinton, who still apparently remained firm in his adherence, to make the rounds of the Tower. Nothing unusual was noticed: the sentinels were at their posts. But as Cholmondeley looked towards Tower-hill, he fancied he observed a great crowd assembled, and pointed out the appearance to Lord Clinton, who seemed a little confused, but declared he could perceive nothing. Cholmondeley, however, was satisfied that he was not deceived; but apprehending no danger from the assemblage, he did not press the point. Towards daybreak he again looked out in the same quarter, but the mob had disappeared. Meanwhile, Gunnora Braose had been conducted to the Bowyer Tower, and locked within the chamber she had occupied, while Nightgall was placed in strict confinement.