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.”