At length in 1583 another great plot was unmasked. France and Spain were to unite in an invasion of England, the English Catholics were to rise, Elizabeth was to be murdered, and Mary was to ascend the throne. Six desperate fanatics undertook to dispatch the English queen by steel or poison as a service pleasing to Heaven. Mary was in the plot up to the eyes. She had corresponded with Anthony Babington, a vain fool who was the chief agent in the plot, and had accepted his offer to assassinate Elizabeth. In extenuation it must be said that she was now desperate. She felt no compunction in lending her support to the murderous project, for she had the wrongs of a lifetime to revenge, and she knew that she would ultimately come to the scaffold if Elizabeth were permitted to live. Walsingham knew every move of the plot, and encouraged it to develop until he had sufficient evidence to bring Mary to trial on the capital charge. She was arrested at a neighbouring seat, whither she had been allowed to go on the pretext of a stag-hunt, and was there detained until her papers had been secured. Then she was removed to Fotheringhay Castle and brought to trial. Mary faced the court with great tact and dignity, and defended herself with the utmost skill. She totally denied all knowledge of the Babington plot; but her case was hopeless, both because the court had what it considered sufficient evidence of her complicity, and because it was considered necessary for political purposes that she should be found guilty. On October 25, 1586, the commissioners reported that she had contrived “divers matters tending to the hurt, death, and destruction of the Queen of England.” Therefore both Houses of Parliament again petitioned for Mary’s speedy execution. Elizabeth replied that she was unwilling to shed the blood of that wicked woman, the Queen of Scots, though she had so often sought her life. She wished that she and Mary were two milkmaids with pails upon their arms, and then she would forgive her all her wrongs. As for her own life, she had no desire on her own account to preserve it. She had nothing left worth living for; but for her people she could endure much. She was most reluctant to sign the death-warrant, and endeavoured to evade the painful task by all sorts of shifts and devices, even going so far as to make the cowardly suggestion that Mary’s guardians should act upon their own responsibility. At length she put her name to the document, and her councillors hurried on the execution lest their mistress should change her mind.