“Alas!” exclaimed Constance, “I know not if Osbert still lives. It is thought he perished on that fatal night when he came here to liberate us. He has not been heard of since. But if he lives, it is as a proscribed rebel, with a price set on his head, and if he be taken, his doom is certain. I have nothing left but to die.” “No, you must live,” said Carver, solemnly. “Osbert Clinton is not dead. He did not perish on that disastrous night, as you suppose. I have seen and spoken with him at the window of my cell, which he reached as he did when you, dear daughter, were its occupant. He and his friends are not disheartened by the ill success of their enterprise. It was rash and precipitate, and failed in consequence. But they are planning another insurrection, and I pray Heaven to crown it with success, since it has for its aim the restoration of our religion and the downfall of Philip!” “I rejoice to hear that Osbert still lives,” said Constance; “but I fear these plots will eventually conduct him to the scaffold.” “If he should so perish, then seek for a martyr’s crown, if you will,” said Carver; “but while he lives, live for him. Something tells me you will yet be united.” “I dare not hope so,” she rejoined. “If my last prayers will avail to ensure your happiness, you shall have them,” said Carver. “And now we must part. Once more I exhort you to continue stedfast in the faith. But be not influenced by the desire of vain-glory, which, perchance, may be my own besetting sin. And now receive my blessing!” And as she bent before him, he spread his arms over her head, and pronounced a solemn benediction. There was then a deep silence, broken only by Constance’s sobs. “Weep not, dear daughter,” he said. “Our parting ought to be joyous rather than sad, seeing that my trials are well-nigh over, and I am about to reap my reward. Farewell!” he added, taking her hand, and pressing his lips to it. “Forget not what I have said to you.” “Fear me not!” she rejoined, sinking upon a bench. “Farewell!” Carver cast a compassionate look at her, and then striding resolutely towards the door, he called out that he was ready, whereupon Mallet instantly appeared. Without hazarding another glance at Constance, he then quitted the chamber, and was taken by Mallet to the gate, where he was delivered to the officers sent for him by Bonner. A barge awaited him, and in this conveyance he was taken to Paul’s Wharf. Thence he was escorted to the consistory at Saint Paul’s, where Bonner was sitting in judgment with the Lord Mayor, the sheriffs, and several members of the council. [Illustration] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration] CHAPTER II. HOW DERRICK CARVER WAS TAKEN TO LEWES. When Derrick Carver was brought before the tribunal, Bonner eyed him with a smile of malignant satisfaction, and observed to Sheriff Woodrooffe, who was sitting near him,—