Had England at large been less apathetic, or had the little knot of agitators been less politic, a civil war might have been reasonably anticipated. But the intriguers were determined that James of Scotland should succeed; and James himself, aware of the flaw in his title, was busily working with them to the same end. Cecil, Lady Rich, Lady Scrope, and Carey, were all pledged to let him know the exact moment of the Queen's, decease, that he might set out for England at once. All was gloom and suspense in the chamber of Richmond Palace, where the great Queen of England lay dying. Her ladies and courtiers urged her to take more nourishment,--she refused. They urged her to go to bed,--she refused. She would be a queen to her last breath. No failure of bodily strength could chill or tame the lion heart of Elizabeth. At last, very delicately, Cecil attempted to sound the dying Queen on that subject of the succession, always hitherto forbidden. Her throat was painful, and she spoke with difficulty: Cecil, as spokesman for her Council, asked her to declare "whom she would have for King," offering to name sundry persons, and requesting that. Her Majesty would hold up her finger when he came to the name which satisfied her. To test the vigour of her mind, he first named the King of France. Elizabeth did not stir. "The King's Majesty of Scotland?" There was no sign still. "My Lord Beauchamp?"--Edward Seymour, the heir according to the wills of her father and brother. Then the royal lioness was roused. "I tell you," she said angrily, "I will have no rascal's son in my seat, but a king's son." There was no king's son among the candidates but one, and that was James of Scotland. Once more, when she was past speech, Elizabeth was asked if she wished James to succeed her. She indicated her pleasure in a manner which some modern writers have questioned, but which was well understood in her own day. Lifting her clasped hands to her head, the dying Elizabeth made them assume the form of a crown; and once more those around her knew that she desired her successor to be a king. Tradition says that as soon as Elizabeth was dead, Lady Scrope dropped a sapphire ring from the window--a preconcerted signal--to her brother, Robert Carey, who was waiting below. Carey states that he was told in a more matter-of-fact way--by a sentinel, whom he had previously requested to bring him the news. That hour Carey set out: and except for one night's rest at Carlisle, he spurred night and day till he stood before King James. There was a sudden intimation--a hurried action taken--and the Stuarts were Kings of England.