“I readily agree to it,” replied Jane, “and I thank you for your consideration.”
After some further conference, Feckenham departed, and Angela, as soon as they were alone, warmly thanked Jane for her kindness, saying—“But why think of me at such a time?”
“Because it will be a satisfaction to me to know that you are united to the object of your affections,” replied Jane. “And now leave me to my devotions, and prepare yourself for what is to happen.”
With this, she withdrew into the recess, and, occupied in fervent prayer, soon abstracted herself from all else. Three hours afterwards, Feckenham returned. He was accompanied by Cholmondeley, and a grave-looking divine in the habit of a minister of the Reformed Church, in whom Jane immediately recognised John Bradford,—the uncompromising preacher of the Gospel, who not long afterwards won his crown of martyrdom at Smithfield. Apparently, he knew why he was summoned, and the condition annexed to it, for he fixed an eye full of the deepest compassion and admiration upon Jane, but said nothing. Cholmondeley threw himself at her feet, and pressed her hand to his lips, but his utterance failed him. Jane raised him kindly and entreated him to command himself, saying, “I have not sent for you hero to afflict you, but to make you happy.” <
“Alas! madam,” replied Cholmondcley, “you are ever more thoughtful for others than yourself.”
“Proceed with the ceremony without delay, sir,” said Fleckenham.
“I rely upon your word, madam, that you hold no conference with him.”
“You may rely upon it,” returned Jane.
And the confessor withdrew.
Bradford then took from his vest a book of prayers, and in that prison-chamber, with Jane only as a witness, the ceremony was performed. At its conclusion, Angela observed to her husband—“We must separate as soon as united, for I shall never quit my dear mistress during her lifetime.”