“Not while the duke holds his high office, gracious madam,” returned Pembroke. “His followers give you the name of Queen. But they look up to him as sovereign.”
“My lord, I need no assurance that you are Northumberland’s mortal enemy,” replied Jane.
“I am your majesty’s loyal subject,” replied the earl. “And if your passport be respected, I will confess that I have wronged him.”
“And if it be not, I will confess I have wronged you, my lord,” rejoined Jane. “The royal barge is at your service.—An usher shall conduct you to it.”
So saying, she motioned one of her train, to attend them, and the two nobles bowed and departed.
As soon as they had quitted the royal presence, Pembroke observed to his companion:—
“We have now effected a quarrel, which will end in Northumberland’s destruction and Jane’s dethronement. Simon Renard will so fan the flame, that it shall never be extinguished.”
As the Earl anticipated, the Queen’s pass was refused—the warders declaring that their instructions were to suffer no one to go forth without the Duke’s written order. They then returned to the palace. It was some time before they were admitted to the Queen, as she was engaged in the angry conference previously-related with her mother-in-law. When the Duchess had departed, they sought an audience.
“How, my lords,” cried Jane, turning very pale; “do I see you again so soon?”
“It is as I informed your highness,” replied the Earl of Pembroke, laying the order on the table. “The Duke is master here.”