ner; "I have but to raise my voice, and the guard will im mediately appear."

"You do not mean to execute your threats, my lord?" rejoined Courtenay.

"I have no alternative,” returned Gardiner, "unless by revealing to me all you know respecting this conspiracy, you will enable me to crush it. Not to keep you longer in the dark, I will tell you that proofs are already before us of your connection with the plot. The dwarf Xit, employed by M. de Noailles to convey messages to you, and who assisted in your escape, has, under threat of torture, made a full confession. From him we have learnt that a guitar, containing a key to the cipher to be used in a secret correspondence, was sent to Elizabeth by the ambassador. The instrument has been found in the princess's possession at Ashbridge, and has furnished a clue to several of your own letters to her, which we have intercepted. Moreover, two of the French ambassador's agents, under the disguise of Huguenot preachers, have been arrested, and have revealed his treasonable designs. Having thus fairly told you the nature and extent of the evidence against you, I would recommend you to plead guilty, and throw yourself upon the Queen's mercy,"

"If you are satisfied with the information you have obtained, my lord," returned Courtenay, "you can require nothing further from me."

"Yes!-the names of your associates," rejoined Gardi

ner.

"The rack should not induce me to betray them," replied Courtenay.

"But a more persuasive engine may," rejoined the chancellor. "What if I offer you Elizabeth's hand provided you will give up all concerned in this plot?"

"I reject it," replied the earl, struggling between his sense of duty and passion.

"Then I must call the guard," returned the chancellor. "Hold!" cried Courtenay, "I would barter my soul to the enemy of mankind to possess Elizabeth. Swear to me she shall be mine, and I will reveal all."

Gardiner gave the required pledge.

"Yet, if I confess, I shall sign my own condemnation, and that of the princess," hesitated Courtenay. "Not so," rejoined the chancellor. "In the last session of Parliament it was enacted, that those only should suffer death for treason, who had assisted at its commission, either by taking arms themselves, or aiding directly and personal ly those who had taken them. Such as have simply known or approved the crime are excepted-and your case is among the latter class. But do not let us tarry here. Come with me to my cabinet, and I will resolve all your scruples." "And you will insure me the hand of the princess?" said Courtenay.

"Undoubtedly," answered Gardiner. "Have I not sworn

it?"

And they quitted the presence-chamber.

No sooner were they gone, than two persons stepped from behind the arras where they had remained concealed during the foregoing conversation. They were De Noailles and Sir Thomas Wyat.

"Perfidious villain!" cried the latter, "I breathe more freely since he is gone. I had great difficulty in preventing myself from stabbing him on the spot."

"It would have been a useless waste of blood," replied De Noailles. "It was fortunate that I induced you to listen to their conversation. We must instantly provide for our own safety, and that of our friends. The insurrection must no longer be delayed."

"It shall not be delayed an hour," replied Wyat. "I have six thousand followers in Kent, who only require to see my banner displayed to flock round it. Captain Bret and his company of London trainbands are eagerly expecting our rising. Throckmorton will watch over the proceedings in the city. Vice-Admiral Winter, with his squadron of seven sail, now in the river, under orders to escort Philip of Spain, will furnish us with ordnance and ammunition; and, if need be, with the crews under his command."

Nothing can be better," replied De Noailles. "We must get the Duke of Suffolk out of the Tower, and hasten to Lord Guilford Dudley, with whom some plan must be instantly concerted. Sir Peter Carew must start forthwith for Devonshire-Sir James Croft for Wales. Your destination is Kent. If Courtenay had not proved a traitor, we would have placed him on the throne. As it is, my ad

vice is, that neither Elizabeth nor Jane should be proclaimed, but Mary Stuart."

"There the policy of France peeps out," replied Wyat. "But I will proclaim none of them. We will compel the queen to give up this match, and drive the Spaniard from our shores." "Do not

"As you will," replied De Noailles, hastily. let us remain longer here, or it may be impossible to quit the fortress."

With this, they left the palace, and seeking the Duke of Suffolk, contrived to mix him up among their attendants, and so to elude the vigilance of the warders. As soon as they were out of the Tower, Sir Thomas Wyat embarked in a wherry, manned by four rowers, and took the direction of Gravesend. De Noailles and the Duke of Suffolk hastened to Sion House, where the found Lord Guilford Dudley seated with Jane and Cholmondeley. On their appearance, Dudley started to his feet, and exclaimed, “We are betrayed!"

"We are," replied De Noailles. "Courtenay has played the traitor. But this is of no moment, as his assistance would have been of little avail, and his pretensions to the crown might have interfered with the rights of your consort. Sir Thomas Wyat has set out for Kent. We must collect all the force we can, and retire to some place of concealment till his messengers arrive with intelligence that he is marching toward London. We mean to besiege the Tower, and secure the queen's person.'

Dudley," cried Jane, "if you have one spark of honor, gratitude, or loyalty left, you will take no part in this insurrection."

"Mary is no longer queen," replied her husband, bending the knee before her. "To you, Jane, belongs that title; and it will be for you to decide whether she shall live or not."

"The battle is not yet won," observed the Duke of Suffolk. "Let us obtain the crown before we pass sentence on those who have usurped it."

"The lady Jane must accompany us," whispered De Noailles to Dudley. "If she fals into the hands of our enemies, she may be used as a formidable weapon against us."

"My lord," cried Jane, kneeling to the Duke of Suffolk; "if my supplications fail to move my husband, do not you turn a deaf ear to them. Believe me, this plot will totally fail, and conduct us all to the scaffold."

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cried Dudley.

Jane, you must come with us," Never," she replied, rising. "I will not stir from this spot. I implore you and my father to remain here likewise, and submit yourselves to the mercy of the queen."

"And do you think such conduct befitting the son of the great Duke of Northumberland?" replied Dudley. "No, madam, the die is cast. My course is taken. You must come with us. There is no time for preparation. M. De Noailles, I place myself entirely in your hands. Let horses be brought round instantly," he added, turning to his esquire.

"They shall be at the gate almost before you can reach it, my lord," returned Cholmondeley. "There are several ready-saddled within the stables." "It is well," replied Dudley. And the esquire departed. "Father, dear father," cried Jane, "you will not go. You will not leave me."

But the duke averted his gaze from her, and rushed out of the room.

De Noailles made a significant gesture to Dudley, and followed him.

Jane," cried Dudley, taking her hand, "I entreatnay command you to accompany me."

But as

"Dudley," she replied, "I can not-will not-obey you in this. If I could, I would detain you. I cannot, I will take no part in your criminal designs."

"Farewell for ever, then," rejoined Dudley, breaking from her. "Since you abandon me in this extremity, and

trust. I will treat with whomsoever the queen desires; but in surety of her good faith, I must have delivered to me the custody of the Tower of London, and of her highness's person. Furthermore, I require the head of Simon Renard, the originator of this tumult. "

"Insolent!" cried Hastings. "Rather than your traitorous demands shall be complied with, you and all your rabble rout shall be put to the sword.

With these words, he sprang upon his steed and accompanied by Cornwallis and his attendants, rode back to the Tower, to declare the ill success of his mission to Mary. Wyat's success created the greatest consternation among the queen's party. Though the tower was filled with armed men, its inmates did not feel secure, being in constant apprehension of a rising in London. The imperial ambassadors were not less alarmed, as it was generally thought they would be sacrificed to the popular fury. Gardiner counselled them to make good their retreat to Brussels; and they all, with the exception of Simon Renard, who declared he would remain at his post, decided upon following the advice.

They would not, however, depart without taking leave of Mary, who desired them to recommend her to the emperor, and to assure him she was under no alarm for her personal safety. Costly presents were offered to them; but, under the circumstances they were declined. The ambassadors quitted the Tower at dead of night, embarking at Traitor's Gate, and were compelled to leave their horses, attendants, and baggage, behind them.

In spite of the secrecy of their departure, it was discovered, and an attempt was made to capture them by some watermen, who in all probability would have succeded, if they not been driven off by the batteries of the fortress. Fortunately, the fugitive found a fleet of merchantmen, armed with a few guns, ready to sail for Antwerp; in one of which they embarked, and under cover of the night, got safely down the river

On the following morning, news was brought that Wyat was within a few miles of London; and it was added that his appearance before the walls of the fortress would be the signal for the rising of the citizens,-that the gates of the city would be thrown open to him, and perhaps those of the Tower itself. Every possible precaution was taken by Sir Henry Bedingfield. He visited the whole line of ramparts and fortifications, and ascertained that all the men were at their posts, and in readiness, in case of a sudden attack. By his directions, the drawbridges on London Bridge were broken down-the craft moored on the Middlesex side of the river-the ferry-boats staved and sunk-and the bridges for fifteen miles up the river destroyed. While this was going on, Gardiner, seriously alarmed by the aspect of things, sought the queen's presence, and endeavored to persuade her to fly to France. But Mary, who, it has been more than once observed, inherited all the lion spirit of her father, and whose courage rose in proportion to the danger by which she was surrounded, at once, and disdainfully, rejected the proposal.

"My people may abandon me," she said, "but I will never abandon them. I have no fear of the result of this struggle, being well assured I have plenty of loyal English hearts to serve and defend me. If need be, I will take up arms myself, and try the truth of this quarrel; for I would rather die with those who will stand by me, than yield one jot to such a traitor as Wyat."

Earl of Devonshire. The blow that falls upon his head, must strike mine also. Since your majesty, with a resolution worthy of the daughter of your great sire, decides on maintaining your ground against these rebels, I nothing fear for the result. Let the worst come to the worst, we can but die; and we will die fighting in your cause.

"My Lord," rejoined the queen, after a moment's reflection, "bid Sir Henry Bedingfield, and the whole of the officers and men not required on duty on the ramparts, attend high mass within Saint John's chapel an hour hence. You yourself will officiate with all the prelates and priesthood in the fortress. The service over, I shall repair to the council-chamber, where it is my purpose to address them." Gardiner bowed and retired to execute her commands, and the queen enjoining Renard's attendance at the chapel, retired to her closet with her dames of honor.

CHAPTER XXVIII..Of the Queen's Speech in the Council-Chamber; and of her interview with Sir Thomas Wyat. At the appointed time, Saint John's chapel was thronged with armed men; and as the royal train passed along the upper gallery, and glanced down upon them, Mary was inexpressibly struck by the scene. Banners waved from the arched openings of the gallery and the aisles and nave gleamed with polished steel. For fear of a sudden surprise, the soldiers were ordered to carry their weapons, and this circumstance added materially to the effect of the picture. Around the columns of the southern aisle were grouped the arquebussiers with their guns upon their shoulders; around those of the north stood the pikemen, in their steel caps and corslets; while the whole body of the nave was filled with archers, with their bows at their backs. Immediately in front of the altar stood the Duke of Norfolk, the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke, the lords Paget and Rochester; Sir Henry Bedingfeld; Sir Henry Jerningham, master of the horse; Sir Edward Bray, master of the ordnance, all in full armor. On the queen's appearance, all these personages bent the knee before her; and Bedingfeld, in virtue of his office, advancing a step before the others, drew his sword, and vowed he would never yield up the fortress but with life. He then turned to the troops, and repeated his determination to them. And the walls of the sacred structure rang with the shouts of the soldiers.

"You have yet loyal followers enow who will shed their last drop of blood in your defence," he added to Mary. "I nothing doubt it, dear Sir Henry," she replied in a voice of deep emotion. "I will share your danger, and, I trust, your triumph."

Solemn mass was then performed by Gardiner, who was attended by Bonner, Tunstal, Feckenham, and other prelates and priests in their full robes. On its conclusion, the queen gave her hand to Sir Henry Bedingfeld, and followed by the whole assemblage, proceeded to the council-chamber, and took her seat beneath the state canopy.

Tower of London, and not only the placing and displacing of our council, but also the head of one who is an ambassador at our court, and protected by his office from injury." Here a murmur of indignation arose among the assemblage.

"I have already said it must not be," replied Mary. Nay, then," rejoined Renard, "I will take the responsibility of the act upon myself."

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Disobeyed!" exclaimed Mary, authoratively. "I command you not to leave the presence."

"Your majesty will repent this mistaken clemency," cried Renard, chafing with fury.

"I shall never repent adhering to my word," returned Mary. "And see, here comes our lieutenant. How now, Sir Henry? Is the traitor gone?"

"He is, your highness," replied Bedingfeld; "and it required all my authority to prevent the infuriated guard from falling upon him, and cutting him in pieces."

"I am glad you were with him," replied Mary; "I would not for the best jewel in my crown that any harm had happened to him. Give me your hand, Sir Henry. I will myself visit the ramparts, and cheer the soldiers with my presence."

"Your majesty will expose yourself," returned Bedingfeld.

"To whom?" replied Mary-" only to my subjects. They will not dare to assail their Queen. The daughter of your old master, Henry the Eighth, should have no fear."

CHAPTER XXIX....The Siege of the Tower. On Wyat's return, it was resolved that, under cover of darkness, the Duke of Suffolk and Lord Guilford Dudley should march with two detachments of men to Deptford, where a squadron of seven sail commanded by Admiral Winter, together with a number of lesser craft, awaited them. Dudley and his party were then to cross the river in Winter's boats, and proceed to East Smithfield; while Suffolk was to embark his men in the larger vessels, and to sail up the river with the tide. Wyat determined to attempt a passage across London Bridge, and if this could not be accomplished, to abide the arrival of Winter's squadron. It was then arranged that the attack should take place two hours before dawn. The fortress was to be assailed simultaneously at three different points, so as to distract the attention of the defenders. To Lord Guilford Dudley was assigned the Brass Mount, and the north-east angle of the ramparts; to the Duke of Suffolk Traitor's Tower, and the southern fortifications; and to Wyat the Middle Tower, and the By ward Tower-two of the strongest defences of the fortress. If the attack proved successful, the three leaders were to concentrate their forces before the gateway of the Bloody Tower.

When it was sufficiently dark, Suffolk and Dudley placed themselves at the head of their detachments and set out. Though they moved along with the utmost caution, they were heard by the soldiers on the ramparts, who reported their suspicions to Bedingfeld, and precautions were taken accordingly, though it was the opinion of many that the rebels had beat a retreat.

At midnight, Wyat prepared to cross London Bridge. Aware that the drawbridges were cut away-that it was barricaded, and strongly defended-he provided himself with planks and ropes, and issuing instructions to his men, set forward. They were allowed to proceed without molestation to the first drawbridge, but here a sharp fire was opened upon them. In spite of this, Wyat succeeded in laying down a plank, and, at the head of a dozen men, crossed it. Dislodging their opponents, several other planks were laid down, and the passage being rendered secure, the whole party crossed, and carried over their ammunition in safety.

The report of the attack soon reached the city-guard. Drums were beaten, trumpets sounded, and shouts heard in every direction. While this was passing, a well-contested fight took place at the barricades in the centre of the bridge, between their defenders and the insurgents. Having broken down these obstacles, Wyat drove all before him. Still, another and wider chasm lay between him and the Middlesex shore. In front of it, the assailed party made a desperate stand; but their resistance was unavailing. Many were precipitated into the yawning gulf, and drowned; while others threw down their arms, and besought mercy. On the further side of the chasm, a formidable array of soldiery opposed the progress of the rebel army, and a piece of ordnance did terrible execution among them. Two

planks were hewn asunder as soon as they were thrust across the abyss; but the moment the third was laid down, Wyat dashed across it, and drove back two men with hatchets in their hands who were about to sever it. He was followed by half-a-dozen soldiers. In this instance, his fiery courage had well nigh proved fatal to him; for no sooner had the small band crossed it, than the plank was hurled into the chasm, and Wyat left, with his trifling party, to contend against the whole host of his foes. His destruction appeared inevitable, but his self-possession stood him in good stead.

Fellow-countrymen," he shouted, "I am your friend, not your enemy. I would deliver you from the thraldom and oppression. You ought rather to aid than oppose me. You are upholding Spain-and the inquisition-while I am fighting for England and liberty."

These few words, vociferated while he made a desperate stand against his opponents, turned the tide of affairs. In vain the royalist leaders shouted "Down with the rebels! the queen! the queen!" They were answered by deafening cries of "A Wyat! a Wyat! No Philip of Spain-no Popish supremacy-no inquisition!"

Amid this tumult, the insurgents, who had witnessed with dismay the perilous position of their leader, redoubled their exertions; and placing several planks across the gulf, crossed them, and flew to his assistance. Following up the advantage he had gained, Wyat, without difficulty, routed his opponents. He then paused to cover the passage of the remainder of his troops and artillery across the chasm, which was safely accomplished.

At the foot of Fish-street-hill, they were checked by a company of horse under the command of the Earl of Pembroke, and a skirmish took place, in which the royalists were worsted with severe loss, and many prisoners taken, as well as arms and horses. Pembroke, however, escaped and retreated to the Tower, bringing the news of his own defeat and of the successes of the rebels.

The citizens showed little disposition to take part in the struggle. All they were uneasy about was the security of their property; but Wyat, having prohibited his men from plunder or riot, and Captain Bret proclaiming that no mischief should be done, they remained tranquil. In this way, the insurgents marched, without further interruption, to Cornhill, where Wyat marshalled his forces, distributed rations of meat and liquors among them, and awaited the appointed time for his attack upon the Tower.

Within the fortress all was consternation. The extraor dinary success which had hitherto attended Wyat, well nigh paralysed the queen's party. The council again urged Mary to escape privately, but she peremptorily refused, and forbade the subject to be mentioned again, on pain of her severest displeasure. Some of the more timid then ventured to advise that she should assent to Wyat's termisthat Renard should be given up, and the match with the Prince of Spain abandoned. "I will sooner abandon my crown," rejoined Mary. Her courage never for one instant forsook her, and her spirit and resolution sustained the wavering minds of her adherents.

Long before this, Suffolk and Dudley had reached Dartford. As agreed, the duke and his detachment embarked on board Winter's squadron, while the others were transported across the river in smaller boats. At Poplar, Dudley ordered his men to nail together a number of stout boards, to serve as rafts. These were fastened with ropes to such horses as they could procure, and on reaching East Smithfield were unharnessed and held in readiness, until the signal of attack should be given. Besides the rafts, two or three wherries had been brought up from the river, and several long scaling-ladders provided.

Dudley's detachment consisted of about a thousand men, archers and arquebussiers, all of whom were well armed and eager for the attack. As yet, all was involved in pro. found darkness, and so far as they could judge, no suspicion of their presence was entertained by those within the fortress.

Scouts were despatched towards the postern gate,-a fortification terminating the city wall, and situated, as has before been stated, at the north side of the moat,-and from one of them, who had contrived to scramble along the edge of the fosse, it was ascertained that a detachment of Sir Thomas Wyat's party was creeping stealthily along, with the intention of surprising the postern gate.

It had been Chelmondeley's intention to search for the