'Welcome! welcome!' I said, and could say no more of all the words of love and greeting crying out in my mind for utterance. He, too, seemed to find a difficulty in speech, but he led me to a seat near the water, and we sat down, hand in hand, in silence, which was more eloquent than any words. After a little while, he told me the news of what had been occurring in the City and the open field, where the Duke of Northumberland led the forces, and as he spoke of treachery and cowardice, I scarcely knew my lover in the pale, indignant man. 'You must know, Margery,' he said to me, 'that the Council, after proclaiming Mary Queen, sent the herald, Richard Rose, to the Duke of Northumberland with a message commanding him to disband his army and acknowledge Queen Mary, under penalty of being declared a traitor. But, even before receiving these orders, he had himself submitted in a cowardly, undignified manner. He had withdrawn from Bury St. Edmunds to Cambridge, where, on the Sunday, he caused the Vice-Chancellor of the University to preach a sermon against the rights and the religion of Mary, and the following day, when the news arrived from London of the revolution that had taken place there, he went to the Market place and declared aloud that Mary whom they had been denouncing, was the rightful queen. Moreover, he flung up his cap, as if in joy, whilst tears of mortification and regret rolled down his face. "Queen Mary is a merciful woman," he said to the Vice-chancellor, "and doubtless all will receive the benefit of her generous pardon." The Vice-chancellor, however, gave him no hope, for he said if the queen were ever so inclined to pardon, those who ruled her would destroy him, whoever else was pardoned. Immediately afterwards he was arrested and sent off to the Tower.' 'What a fall for the proud Northumberland!' exclaimed I. 'Proud no longer!' said Sir Hubert. 'His behaviour, when arrested, was abject in the extreme. He fell on his knees before the Earl of Arundel, who arrested him, and begged for his life.' 'Where was his dignity?' cried I, and then, the next instant I asked, 'will they kill him?' 'Yes. He will be executed for high treason.' 'How dreadful!' said I, adding 'How grieved my dear lady will be, although he has been so cruel to her!' 'And many others, braver than he, were sent to the Tower,' continued my lover, 'and amongst them even Bishop Ridley.' 'Bishop Ridley!' 'Yes. For preaching that sermon at St. Paul's Cross. They say it is like to cost him his life.' 'His life! Will Mary be so wicked as to kill a clergyman because of what he said in his sermon?' asked I.