“It may be shortly put to the proof,” answered De Noailles. “Never,” replied Courtenay; “I will never wed Mary.”
“But Elizabeth?” cried the ambassador.
“Ay, Elizabeth,” echoed the earl passionately, “with, or without a throne, she would be equally dear to me.”
“You shall have her and the crown as well,” replied De Noailles.
“I care not for the latter, provided I can obtain the former,” returned the earl.
“One is dependent upon the other,” rejoined De Noailles. “While Mary reigns, you must give up all hopes of Elizabeth.”
“It is that conviction alone that induces me to take part in the conspiracy,” sighed Courtenay. “I am neither ambitious to rule this kingdom, nor to supplant Philip of Spain. But I would risk fortune, title, life itself, for Elizabeth.”
“I know it,” ejaculated De Noailles to himself, “and therefore I hold her out as a lure to you, weak, wavering fool! I will use you as far as I find necessary, but no further. Rash and harebrained as he is, Lord Guilford Dudley would make the better leader, and is the more likely to succeed. Jane’s party is hourly gaining strength. Well, well, I care not who wins the day, provided I foil Renard, and that I will do at any cost.”
“A thousand marks that I read your excellency’s thoughts!” cried a martial-looking personage, approaching them. He was attired in a coat of mail, with quilted sleeves, a velvet cassock, cuisses, and buff boots drawn up above the knee; and carried in his hand a black velvet cap, ornamented with broad bone-work lace. His arms were rapier and dagger, both of the largest size. “Is the wager accepted?” he added, taking the ambassador’s arm within his own, and drawing him aside.
“My thoughts are easily guessed, Sir Thomas Wyat,” replied De Noailles, “I am thinking how prosperously all goes for us.”