“This is madness,” cried Rodomont. “The King is certain to come hither, and then you will be arrested. Hide yourself in this cupboard,” he added, opening the door of a large oak ambry reared against the wall. “It only contains a few priestly vestments, and you can stand upright within it.” But Osbert refused to move. “Do as he recommends, I implore you,” said Constance to him. “You will throw away your life by staying with me.” “To be sure he will,” rejoined Rodomont, dragging him away, and forcing him into the ambry, the door of which he shut. The step was only just taken in time. In another moment, the King came into the sacristy, and seeing that Constance had recovered, he signed to Rodomont to leave the chamber. “I have much to say to you, Constance,” he began, “but this is not the moment for it. Are you still in the same mood as when I saw you last? Has no change been wrought in your sentiments?” “None, Sire,” she replied. “I am quite happy in the life I lead with the good Cardinal, and only pray it may continue.” “But you still maintain your heretical opinions?” said the King. “Firmly as ever, Sire.” “And does not this awful ceremonial shake you?” “On the contrary, it strengthens my convictions.” “All heretics are alike—all obstinate and contumacious,” muttered Philip. “Constance, you cannot go back to the Cardinal. He is much too lenient to you. I shall deliver you to Bishop Bonner, who will treat you very differently.” “Oh! Sire, do not deliver me to that cruel man. Let me go back to the good Cardinal, who has been as a father to me. Have compassion upon me.” “You have no compassion upon me, Constance,” rejoined Philip. “You care not for my sufferings. Relent towards me, and I will be less rigorous towards you.” “It cannot be, Sire,” she rejoined. “Be not hasty. Reflect. If I consign you to Bonner, your fate is certain. After the execution, the sight of which I will spare you, I will return for your answer. A guard will be placed at the door to prevent your exit, but no one shall disturb you. Again, I say, reflect. On your own decision hangs your fate.” So saying, he quitted the sacristy, the door of which was locked outside. [Illustration] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration] CHAPTER V. THE PROTO-MARTYR OF THE PROTESTANT CHURCH.