“My advice is, that it be given to the Duke of Northumberland,” said the Earl of Arundel. “Wherever he has carried his arms—in Scotland and in France—he has been victorious. The recollection of the defeat sustained by the rebels at Dussindale will operate in his favour. His grace has every recommendation for the office. Having achieved the victory of Norfolk once already, he will be so feared that none will dare to lift up a weapon against him. Besides which, I need scarcely remind your highness, who must be familiar with his high reputation, that he is the best man of war in the realm, as well for the ordering of his camps and soldiers, both in battle and in the tent, as for his experience and wisdom, with which he can both animate his army and either vanquish his enemies by his courage and skill, or else dissuade them (if need be,) from their enterprise.” “My voice is for Northumberland,” cried Cecil. “And mine,” added Huntingdon. “We are all unanimous,” cried the rest of the Council. “Your grace hears the opinion just given,” said Jane. “Will you undertake the command?”. “No,” answered the Duke, bluntly. “I will shed my blood in your majesty’s defence. But I see through the designs, of your artful council, and will not be made their dupe. Their object is to withdraw me from you. Let the Duke of Suffolk take the command. I will maintain the custody of the Tower.” “Do not suffer him to decline it,” whispered Simon Renard to the Queen. “By this means you will accomplish a double purpose—insure a victory over Mary, and free yourself from the yoke he will otherwise impose upon you. If the Duke of Suffolk departs, and he is left absolute master of the Tower, you will never attain your rightful position.” “You are right,” replied Jane. “My lord,” she continued, addressing the Duke, “I am satisfied that the Council mean you well. And I pray you, therefore, to acquiesce in their wishes and my own.”. “Why will not your highness send the Duke of Suffolk, as you have this moment proposed?” rejoined Northumberland. “I have bethought me,” replied the Queen. “And as my husband has thought fit to absent himself from me at this perilous juncture, I am resolved not to be left without a protector. Your grace will, therefore, deliver up the keys of the Tower to the Duke of Suffolk.” “Nay, your majesty,”—cried Northumberland. “I will have no nay, my lord,” interrupted the Queen peremptorily. “I will in nowise consent that my father shall leave me. To whom else would your grace entrust the command?” The Duke appeared to reflect for a moment. “I know no one,” he answered. “Then your grace must perforce consent,” said the Queen. “If your majesty commands it, I must. But I feel it is a desperate hazard,” replied Northumberland. “It is so desperate,” whispered Pembroke to Renard,—“that he has not one chance in his favour.” “The Council desire to know your grace’s determination?” said Arundel.