“Not so, sir,” returned Mary. “Most of my subjects, I believe, share your loyalty. But this does not lessen your desert. I should be wanting in all gratitude were I to let the service you have rendered me pass unrequited. And since you refuse to tell me how I can best reward you, I must take upon myself to judge for you. The custody of our person and of our fortress shall be entrusted to your care. Neither can be confided to worthier hands. Sir John Gage shall receive another appointment. Henceforth, you are Lieutenant of the Tower.” This gracious act was followed by the acclamations of the bystanders; and the air resounded with cries of “God save Queen Mary!—a Bedingfeld!—a Bedingfeld!” “Your majesty has laid an onerous duty upon me, but I will endeavour to discharge it to your satisfaction,” replied Sir Henry, bending the knee, and pressing her hand devotedly to his lips. And amid the increased acclamations of the multitude, Mary entered her barge. Edward Underhill, meanwhile, whose atrocious purpose had been thus providentially defeated, on perceiving that his royal victim had escaped, uttered an ejaculation of rage and disappointment, flung down the arquebuss, and folding his arms upon his bosom, awaited the result. Fortunately, an officer accompanied the soldiers who seized him, or they would have hewn him in pieces. The wretched man made no attempt to fly, or to defend himself, but when the soldiers rushed into the room, cried, “Go no further. I am he you seek.” “We know it, accursed villain,” rejoined the foremost of their number, brandishing a sword over his head. “You have slain the queen.” “Would I had!” rejoined Underhill. “But it is not the truth. The Lord was not willing I should be the instrument of his vengeance.” “Hear the blasphemer!” roared another soldier, dealing him a blow in the mouth with the pummel of his dagger, that made the blood gush from his lips. “He boasts of the villany he has committed.” “If my arm had not been stayed, I had delivered the land from idolatry and oppression,” returned Underhill. “A season of terrible persecution is at hand, when you will lament as much as I do, that my design has been frustrated. The blood of the righteous would have been spared; the fagots at the stake un-lighted; the groans of the martyrs unheard. But it is the Lord’s will that this should be. Blessed be the name of the Lord!” “Silence, hell-dog!” vociferated a third soldier, placing the point of his halbert at his breast. “Host think Heaven would approve the foul deed thou meditatedst? Silence! I say, or I will drive my pike to thy heart.” “I will not be silent,” rejoined Underhill, firmly. “So long as breath is left me, I will denounce the idolatrous queen by whom this unhappy land is governed, and pray that the crown may be removed from her head.” “Rather than thou shalt do so in my hearing, I will pluck out thy traitorous tongue by the roots,” returned the soldier who had last spoken.