Having waited for a short time, Gardiner bowed gravely, and dismissed the assemblage. As he was about to quit the presence-chamber, he perceived Courtenay standing in a pensive attitude in the embrasure of a window. Apparently, the room was entirely deserted, except by the two ushers, who, with white wands in their hands, were stationed on either side of the door. It suddenly occurred to Gardiner that this would be a favourable opportunity to question the Earl respecting the schemes in which he more than suspected he was a party, and he accordingly advanced towards him. “You have heard the reception which the announcement of her majesty’s marriage has met with,” he said. “I will frankly own to you it would have been far more agreeable to me to have named your lordship to them. And you have to thank yourself that such has not been the case.” “True,” replied Courtenay, raising his eyes, and fixing them upon the speaker. “But I have found love more powerful than ambition.” “And do you yet love Elizabeth?” demanded Gardiner, with a slight sneer. “Is it possible that an attachment can endure with your lordship longer than a month?” “I never loved till I loved her,” sighed Courtenay. “Be that as it may, you must abandon her,” returned the chancellor. “The queen will not consent to your union.” “Your lordship has just observed, in your address to the council,” rejoined Courtenay, “that it is the privilege of all—even of the meanest—to choose in marriage whom they will. Since her highness would exert this right in her own favour, why deny it to her sister?” “Because her sister has robbed her of her lover,” replied Gardiner. “Strong-minded as she is, Mary is not without some of the weaknesses of her sex. She could not bear to witness the happiness of a rival.” Courtenay smiled. “I understand your meaning, my lord,” pursued Gardiner sternly; “but if you disobey the queen’s injunctions in this particular, you will lose your head, and so will the princess.” “The queen’s own situation is fraught with more peril than mine,” replied Courtenay. “If she persists in her match with the prince of Spain, she will lose her crown, and then who shall prevent my wedding Elizabeth?” Gardiner looked at him as he said this so fixedly, that the earl involuntarily cast down his eyes. “Your words and manner, my lord,” observed the chancellor, after a pause, “convince me that you are implicated in a conspiracy, known to be forming against the queen.” “My lord!” cried Courtenay. “Do not interrupt me,” continued Gardiner,—“the conduct of the council to-day, the menaces of Sir Thomas Wyat, your own words, convince me that decided measures must be taken. I shall therefore place you in arrest. And this time, rest assured, care shall be taken that you do not escape.” Courtenay laid his hand upon his sword, and looked uneasily at the door.