“Then it shall never be uttered,” replied Gunnora, firmly.
“Torture shall wring it from you,” cried the stranger, furiously.
The old woman drew herself up to her full height, and, regarding the stranger fixedly, answered in a stern tone—“Let it be tried upon me.”
“Mother,” said Gilbert, striding between them, and drawing his dagger, “go back to your own room. You shall not peril your safety thus.”
“Tush!” exclaimed the stranger, impatiently. “No harm shall befal her. I thought you were both loyal subjects of Queen Mary. How can she assume the sovereign power while Jane grasps the sceptre?”
“But you aim at her life?” said Gunnora.
“No,” replied the stranger, “I would preserve her. My object is to destroy Northumberland, and restore the crown to her to whom it rightfully belongs.”
“In that case I will go with you,” returned the old woman.
“You will fall into a snare,” interposed her grandson. “Let him declare who he is.”
“I will reveal my name to your grandame, boy,” replied the stranger. And advancing towards Gunnora, he whispered in her ear. *