“My lord,” said Mary, as he bowed before her, “you are restored to the see of London, and the prelate who now so unworthily fills that high post, Bishop Ridley, shall make room for you. My lord,” she added to Lord Clinton, “make out a warrant, and let him be committed to the Tower.” “I told you how it would be,” observed Renard to Lord Pembroke. “Ridley’s last discourse has cost him his liberty. Cranmer will speedily follow.” Other prisoners, amongst whom was Tunstall, Bishop of Durham, and the Duchess of Somerset, now advanced, and were warmly welcomed by the Queen. The last person who approached her was a remarkably handsome young man, with fine features and a noble figure. This was Edward Courtenay, son of the Marquess of Exeter, who was beheaded in 1538. Since that time Courtenay had been a close prisoner in the Tower. He was of the blood-royal, being grandson of Catherine, youngest daughter of Edward the Fourth, and his father had been declared heir to the throne. “You are right welcome, my cousin,” said Mary, extending her hand graciously to him, which he pressed to his lips. “Your attainder shall be set aside, and though we cannot restore your father to life, we can repair the fortunes of his son, and restore him to his former honours. Henceforth, you are Earl of Devonshire. Your patent shall be presently made out, and such of your sire’s possessions as are in our hands restored.” Courtenay warmly thanked her for her bounty, and the Queen smiled upon him in such gracious sort, that a suspicion crossed more than one bosom that she might select him as her consort. “Her majesty smiles upon Courtenay as if she would bestow her hand upon him in right earnest,” observed Pembroke to Renard. “Hum!” replied the ambassador. “This must be nipped in the bud. I have another husband in view for her.” “Your master, Philip of Spain, I’ll be sworn,” said Pembroke—“a suitable match, if he were not a Catholic.” Renard made no answer, but he smiled an affirmative. “I am glad this scheme has reached my ears,” observed De Noailles, who overheard the conversation—“it will not suit my master, Henry II., that England should form an alliance with Spain. I am for Courtenay, and will thwart Renard’s plot.” Having received the whole of the prisoners, Mary gave orders to liberate all those within the Tower who might be confined for their adherence to the Catholic faith. “My first care,” she said, “shall be to celebrate the obsequies of my brother, Edward VI.,—whose body, while others have been struggling for the throne, remains uninterred according to the forms of the Romish church. The service shall take place in Westminster Abbey.” “That may not be, your highness,” said Cranmer, who formed one of the group. “His late majesty was a Protestant prince.” “Beware how you oppose me, my lord,” rejoined Mary, sternly. “I have already committed Ridley to prison, and shall not hesitate to commit your Grace.”