“Not so,” replied Courtenay, “and I never will be. When I came hither, it was to implore your forgiveness, and to take leave of you for ever. But I find that wholly impossible. Let us fly from this fortress, and find either in a foreign land, or in some obscure corner of this kingdom, a happiness, which a crown could not confer.” As he pronounced these words with all the ardour of genuine passion, he pressed her hand to his lips. Elizabeth did not withdraw it. “Save me from this great crime,” he cried—“save me from wedding one whom I have never loved—save me from an union, which my soul abhors.” “Are you sincere?” asked Elizabeth, much moved. “On my soul I am,” replied Courtenay fervently. “Will you fly with me—this night—this hour,—now?” 0279 “I will answer that question,” cried a voice, which struck them both as if a thunderbolt had fallen at their feet. “I will answer that question,” cried Mary, forcibly throwing aside the arras and gazing at them with eyes that literally seemed to flash fire,—“she will not.” “Had I not heard this with my own ears,” she continued in a terrible tone, addressing her faithless lover, who still remained in a kneeling posture, regarding her with a look of mingled shame and defiance—“had I not heard this with my own ears, and seen it with my own eyes, I could not have believed it! Perfidious villain! you have deceived us both. . But you shall feel what it is to incur the resentment of a queen—and that queen the daughter of Henry the Eighth. Come in, sir,” she added to some one behind the arras, and Simon Renard immediately stepped forth. “As I owe the discovery of the Earl of Devonshire’s perfidy to you, the least I can do is to let you witness his disgrace.” “I will not attempt to defend myself, gracious madam,” said Courtenay, rising. “Defend yourself!” echoed the Queen, bitterly. “Not a word of your conversation to the Princess has escaped my ears. I was there—behind that curtain—almost as soon as you entered her chamber. I was acquainted with your treachery by this gentleman. I disbelieved him. But I soon found he spoke the truth. A masked staircase enabled me to approach you unobserved. I have heard all—all, traitor, all.” “To play the eaves-dropper was worthy of Simon Renard,” returned Courtenay, with a look of deadly hatred at the ambassador, “but scarcely, I think, befitting the Queen of England.” “Where the Queen of England has unworthy persons to deal with, she must resort to unworthy means to detect them,” returned Mary. “I am deeply indebted to M. Renard for his service—more deeply than I can express. An hour more, and it had been too late. Had I affianced myself to you, I should have considered the engagement binding. As it is, I can unscrupulously break it. I am greatly beholden to you, sir.” “I am truly rejoiced to be the instrument of preventing your majesty from entering into this degrading alliance,” said Renard.—“Had it taken place, you would have unceasingly repented it.”