The fair Anne, concealed with her attendant, behind the engine, had listened in terror to the preceding conversation. She saw that they were surrounded by the most artful plots, managed by powerful and experienced agents; that the cause for which she had so long implored the assistance of heaven, was in the greatest danger; that her father, and young Tyldesley, whom she did not now blush to think of as a very dear friend, with his uncle, and Derby, must perish; and that she herself was at the mercy of stern and unflinching ruffians. But how could she inform them of treachery, when the traitors were walking near the place of her concealment? Every moment seemed an hour; and, perhaps, it was then being determined that every royalist in the tower, should be dragged by the garrison, to a disgraceful end! She was almost frantic with impatience, and she knew, likewise, that one slight movement of her posture, as well as a whisper, might betray her. Again the two republicans stood opposite to the place where the females were concealed, and their conversation could be heard. “All is safe,” said the stranger. “A few hours will bear me to my men, assured that no enemy can annoy me in the rear; and before me is the hungry skeleton of a wandering king. Pity that the royal fool will not become my groom. He should be fed and clad, and I might, eventually, raise him to hold my stirrup.” There was intense mockery in his tones. He continued,--“aye, and when his time allowed him to sport, I might procure him a gilded staff for his sceptre, and he might crown himself, with straw from the manger--the Lord’s anointed!” Not a smile passed over the face of the speaker, and Seaton, was silent. The words were too earnest to be taken as humourous sallies. The stranger resumed,--“He returns again to England. Poor fool! Nature seems to have _beheaded_ him at his birth! and all that the Lord’s people can do, is to bury him.” The speaker’s scorn here seemed to increase, until he became silent. Colonel Seaton ventured to inquire-- “Your excellency departs early?” “In a few minutes hence,” was the reply. “I may be suspected;--as I entered the hall, Derby seemed to recall my features. The dead, methinks, have a better cause to bear me in memory, than the living. Yet Derby should recollect me; I once crossed swords with him, disguised in habit, but not in countenance; and to a singular incident he owed his safety. He fought bravely, and I should have dispatched him gallantly, had--but this avails not now. He seems to know me.” “Nay,” replied Seaton, “he spoke kindly to you after I explained the purport of your visit. Let us return to the hall for a little.” “Why?” asked the stranger proudly;--“to be discovered? and then the stay of England’s army and England’s freedom would be broken! No, I mount horse instantly.” “Your hasty departure may excite suspicion, and frustrate our schemes.”