Thus time glided on. Her spirits were always equable; her looks serene; and her health, so far from being affected by her captivity, appeared improved. One change requires to be noticed. It was remarked by her jailor that when first brought to the Brick Tower, she looked younger than her age, which was scarcely seventeen; but that ere a month had elapsed, she seemed like a matured woman. A striking alteration had, indeed, taken place in her appearance. Her countenance was grave, but so benignant, that its gravity had no displeasing effect. Her complexion was pale but clear,—so clear that the course of every azure vein could be traced through the wax-like skin. But that which imparted the almost angelic character to her features, was their expression of perfect purity, unalloyed by any taint of earth. What with her devotional observances, and her intellectual employments, the mind had completely asserted its dominion over the body; and her seraphic looks and beauty almost realized the Catholic notion of a saint. She had so won upon her jailor by her extraordinary piety, and by her gentleness and resignation, that he could scarcely offer her sufficient attention. He procured her such books as she desired—her sole request; and never approached her but with the profoundest reverence. From him she learned the fate of Edward Underhill, and during the dreadful sufferings of the miserable enthusiast, when the flames that were consuming him lighted up her prison-chamber, and his last wild shriek rang in her ears, her lips were employed in pouring forth the most earnest supplications for his release. It was a terrible moment to Jane; and the wretched sufferer at the stake scarcely endured more anguish. Like many others, she saw in his fate a prelude of the storm that was to follow; and passed the whole of the night in prayer, that the danger might be averted. She prayed also, earnestly and sincerely, that a like death might be hers, if it would prove beneficial to her faith, and prevent further persecution. One day, shortly after this event, the jailor made his appearance at an unwonted hour, and throwing himself at her feet, informed her that after a severe struggle with himself, he was determined to liberate her; and that he would not only throw open her prison-door that night, but would find means to set her free from the Tower. When he concluded, Jane, who had listened to his proposal with extreme surprise, at once, though with the utmost thankfulness, declined it. “You would break your trust, and I mine,” she observed, “were I to accept your offer. But it would be useless. Whither should I fly—what should I do were I at large? No, friend, I cannot for a moment indulge the thought. If that door should be opened to me, I would proceed to the queen’s presence, and beseech her highness to bring me to speedy trial. That is all the favour I deserve, or desire.”