Thus the days passed until the Feast of All Saints. As the Queen was still deprived of her chaplain, she was unable to keep the feast with the solemnity she would have wished. She passed it, however, in prayer and in reading the lives of the saints and martyrs. After dinner, while she was in her oratory, Sir Amyas wished to visit her, and unwilling to disturb her, "waited till Her Majesty had finished her prayers;" then, still with unwonted courtesy, he conversed for a considerable time with her, "as if he had nothing really to say to her, and hardly knew with what to entertain her." Sir Amyas, however, had his instructions from Queen Elizabeth, and under semblance of an ordinary conversation, his object was, if possible, to discover some sign of weakness or relenting in his prisoner's sentiments. In this he was disappointed. Mary spoke cheerfully on general subjects,--about her health, which she said was improved; and about her reading, which provided her with her chief amusement. Speaking of the history of England, she observed that in that country blood had never ceased to flow; to which Paulet replied that it had been the same in other countries, and that nothing was more necessary when a state was threatened with serious perils. Mary, paying no attention to the significance of these words, alluded to the trial, and said that she had remarked visible signs of sympathy and compassion on the countenances of several of the Commissioners, and that she would like to know their names, that she might always bear them in grateful remembrance. "Those who accused you and those who kept silence were all actuated by the same sentiments," retorted Paulet. "Not one of them was favourable to your cause. I marvel," continued Paulet, "and every one else is astonished, to see you so calm, under the circumstances in which you find yourself. No living person has ever been accused of crimes so frightful and odious as you are." "I have no occasion to feel troubled or disturbed," rejoined the Queen; "my conscience is at rest and I have already answered my accusers. God and I know that I have never attempted nor connived at the death or murder of any one. My conscience is perfectly free and clear on this point, and being innocent, I have rather occasion to rejoice than to be sad, having my confidence in God, the protector of the innocent." "It is a great happiness," replied Sir Amyas, "to have a clear conscience. God is your witness, but a false and dissimulating conscience is a bad thing; it would be better to confess and repent before God, and the world, if you are guilty, which is indeed too evident, the matter having been so well elucidated in your very presence, as you cannot deny."