“Be it so,” she replied. “I have discharged the only weight I had upon my conscience, and can now indulge my revenge freely. Farewell! my lord. Our next meeting will be on Tower Hill.”
“Hold!” cried Northumberland. “It may be as you represent, though my mind misgives me.”
“It is but forswearing yourself,” observed Gunnora, sarcastically. “Life is cheaply purchased at such a price.”
“Wretch!” cried the Duke. “And yet I have no alternative. I accede.”
“Sign this then,” returned Gunnora, “and it shall be instantly conveyed to her highness.”
Northumberland took the paper, and casting his eye hastily over it, found it was a petition to the Queen, praying that he might be allowed to recant his religious opinions publicly, and become reconciled to the church of Rome. “It is in the hand of Simon Renard,” he observed.
“It is,” replied Gunnora.
“But who will assure me if I do this, my life will be spared!”
“I will,” answered the old woman.
“You!” cried the Duke.