“My lord,” cried Jane, kneeling to the Duke of Suffolk; “if my supplications fail to move my husband, do not you turn a deaf car to them. Believe me, this plot will totally fail, and conduct us all to the scaffold.”
“The duke cannot retreat if he would, madam,” interposed Do Noailles. “Courtenay has betrayed us all to Gardiner, and ere now I doubt not officers are despatched to arrest us.”
“Jane, you must come with us,” cried Dudley.
“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.