This incident, as may be supposed, had not passed unnoticed by Osbert Clinton, whose eyes had never quitted Constance for a moment. As she tottered and fell into the King’s arms, his agony became almost insupportable; and when she was borne to the sacristy by Rodomont, he would have flown instantly to her assistance if he had dared. Meanwhile the _cortége_ continued to pass slowly by the King. The Protestant divines made him an obeisance as they passed, but sedulously abstained from bowing to the altar. Lastly came the intended martyr, who walked with a firm step, and head erect. As he came near, Gardiner commanded him to stop, and thus addressed him: “John Rogers, somewhile priest, but now an excommunicate person, we have striven to convert thee, and by wholesome admonitions to reduce thee again unto the true faith and unity of the universal Catholic Church, but we have found thee obstinate and stiff-necked, stedfastly continuing in thy damnable opinions and heresies, and refusing to return to the lap of the holy mother church. Wherefore, not being willing that thou shouldst infect the Lord’s flock with thine heresy, we have cast thee out from the Church as an obstinate, impenitent sinner, and have left thee to the judgment of the secular power, by whom thou hast been justly condemned to perish by fire. The punishment is inflicted upon thee for the salvation of thine own soul, and as a step towards the extirpation of heresy.” “What consequences may follow my punishment, my lord, none of us can tell,” rejoined Rogers; “but I am fully prepared to die.” “Sinner as thou art, wilt thou be converted and live?” cried Gardiner. “Here is her Majesty’s pardon,” he added, showing him a scroll. “I reject it,” said Rogers, stoutly. “I maintain that the Catholic Church of Rome is the Church of Antichrist. Item, that in the sacrament of the altar——” “A truce to thy blasphemies,” interrupted Gardiner, furiously. “Away with him to the stake!” “I am ready,” said Rogers. “I bid you all to my funeral pile. You shall see how a true believer can die. If I blench, proclaim me a renegade.” Hereupon, the Protestant divines, who had listened with great satisfaction, moved on, and Rogers followed them with a firm step. While this occurred, Osbert Clinton had contrived to steal unperceived to the sacristy. Constance had just recovered from her swoon. Luckily, no one was with her but Rodomont, the monk who had tended her having just quitted the chamber. “Why have you come here, Sir?” cried Rodomont. “Matters were bad enough before, but your imprudence will make them ten times worse. If the King discovers you, you are lost.” “I care not what happens to me,” replied Osbert. “I could not keep away. Fear nothing, Constance,” he added, “I will not quit you more.”