“Add also,” pursued Jane, “that if Mary would resign her throne to me, I would not ascend it.”
“I will not fail, madam,” rejoined the jailor.
Just as he was about to depart, steps were heard on the staircase, and Sir Henry Bedingfeld, attended by a couple of halberdiers, entered the chamber. He held a scroll of parchment in his hand.
“You are the bearer of my death-warrant, I perceive, sir,” said Jane, rising at his approach, but without displaying any emotion.
“On the contrary, madam,” returned Sir Henry, kindly, “it rejoices me to say that I am a bearer of her majesty’s pardon.”
“Clogged by the condition of my becoming a Catholic, I presume?” rejoined Jane, disdainfully.
“Clogged by no condition,” replied Bedingfeld, “except that of your living in retirement.”
Jane could scarcely credit her senses, and she looked so bewildered that the knight repeated what he had said.
“And my husband?” demanded Jane, eagerly.
“He too is free,” replied Bedingfeld; “and on the same terms as yourself. You are both at liberty to quit the Tower as soon as you think proper. Lord Guilford Dudley has already been apprised of her highness’s clemency, and will join you here in a few’ minutes.”