“I have made many efforts to obtain this distinction,” pursued Xit,—“and for a while unsuccessfully. But fortune, or rather my bravery, has at length favoured me. I desire knighthood at your Majesty’s hands.”
“Thou shalt have it,” replied Mary; “and it will be a lesson to me to make no rash promises in future. Hereafter, when affairs are settled, thou wilt not fail to remind me of my promise.”
“Your highness may depend upon it, I will not fail to do so,” replied Xit, bowing and retiring. “Huzza!” he cried, as soon as he gained the antechamber. “Huzza!” he repeated, skipping in the air, and cutting as many capers as his armour would allow him, “at length, I have reached the height of my ambition. I shall be knighted. The queen has promised it. Aha! my three noble giants, I am now a taller man than any of you. My lofty title will make up for my want of stature. Sir Xit!—that does not sound well. I must change my name for one more euphonious, or at least find out my surname. Who am I? It is strange I never thought of tracing out my history before. I feel I am of illustrious origin. I must clear up this point before I am knighted. Stand aside, base grooms,” he continued to the grinning and jeering attendants, “and let me pass.”
While pushing through them, a sudden bustle was heard behind, and he was very unceremoniously thrust back by Simon Renard, who was conducting Dudley to the queen’s presence.
“Another prisoner!” exclaimed Xit. “I wonder what Renard will get for his pains. If I could but take Wyat, my fortune were indeed made. First, I will go and see what has become of Bret; and then, if I can do so without much risk, I will venture outside the portcullis of the By-ward Tower. Who knows but I may come in for another good thing!”
Thus communing with himself, Xit went in search of the unfortunate captain of the Trained Bands, while Renard entered the council-chamber with Dudley. The latter, though faint from loss of blood, on finding himself in the queen’s presence, exerted all his strength, and stood erect and unsupported.
“So far your highness is victorious,” said Renard; “one of the rebel-leaders is in your power, and ere long all will be so: Will it please you to question him—or shall I bid Mauger take off his head at once?”
“Let me reflect a moment,” replied Mary, thoughtfully, “He shall die,” she added, after a pause; “but not yet.”
“It were better to behead him now,” rejoined Renard.
“I do not think so,” replied Mary. “Let him be removed to some place of safe confinement—the dungeon beneath Saint John’s Chapel.”