Courtenay’s escape from the Tower created almost as much sensation as his imprisonment had done; and while his partisans were cheered by it, his enemies were proportionately discouraged. Several bands of soldiers, headed by trusty leaders, were sent in pursuit of him in different directions; but no trace could be discovered of the course he had taken; nor could all the vigilance of Sir Henry Bedingfeld detect who had assisted him in his flight. After some time, as no tidings were heard of him, it was concluded he had embarked for France. Inspired by jealousy, Mary immediately sent an order to Ashbridge to double the guard over her sister; and she secretly instructed Sir Edward Hastings, in case of any attempt to set her free, to convey her instantly to the Tower. Elizabeth either was severely indisposed, or feigned to be so, and it was bruited abroad that poison had been given her. This rumour, which obtained general credence, as well as others to the effect that her life had been attempted by different means, at length reached the queen’s ears, and occasioned her great distress and annoyance. To remove the suspicion, she commanded Elizabeth’s appearance at court. And though the princess would fain have refused, she was compelled to obey. Some weeks had now elapsed since Courtenay’s flight, and during that time the queen’s anger had so much abated, that Gardiner thought he might venture to solicit his pardon, he-presenting to her, that she had already punished him sufficiently by the disgrace she had inflicted upon him, and that it was desirable to give no pretext for tumult during the momentous discussions which would take place on the meeting of parliament,—then immediately about to be assembled,—he urged his suit so warmly, that in the end Mary consented to pardon the carl, provided he appeared at court within three days. Intelligence of the queen’s change of feeling was soon conveyed to Courtenay, who had been concealed in an obscure lodging in London, and on the second day he presented himself before her. Mary received him graciously but coldly, and in such a manner as to convince him and his friends, if they still indulged any such hopes, that a restoration to the place he had once held in her affections was out of the question. “If you are disposed to travel, my lord,” she said, sarcastically, “I will take care you have such appointments to foreign courts as will best suit your age and inclination.” “Your Majesty has perchance some delicate mission at the Court of Madrid, which you desire me to execute,” replied the earl, significantly. “Had I any mission to that court,” replied the Queen, repressing her emotion, “it is not to your hands I should entrust it. You have offended me once, Courtenay. Beware how you do so a second time. Abandon all hopes of Elizabeth. She never can be—never shall be yours.” “That remains to be seen,” muttered Courtenay as he quitted the presence.