“You have parted with her for ever,—heretic and unbeliever!” rejoined Feckenham.
“That speech will haunt your death-bed, sir,” retorted Dudley, sternly. And he turned to the lieutenant, and signified that he was ready.
The first object that met Dudley’s gaze, as he issued from his prison, was the scaffold on the green. He looked at it for a moment, wistfully.
“It is for Lady Jane,” observed the lieutenant.
“I know it,” replied Dudley, in a voice of intense emotion.—“I thank you for letting me die first.”
“You must thank the queen, my lord,” returned Brydges. “It was her order.”
“Shall you see my wife, sir?” demanded Dudley, anxiously.
The lieutenant answered in the affirmative.
“Tell her I will be with her on the scaffold,” said Dudley.
As he was about to set forward, a young man pushed through the lines of halberdiers, and threw himself at his feet. It was Cholmondeley. Dudley instantly raised and embraced him. “At least I sec one whom I love,” he cried.