"But what is the promise of such a false knave worth?" cried Bonner, contemptuously. "He will infallibly break it."

"I do not think so," rejoined the Cardinal. "But tarry with me till eventide, and you will see."

Bonner agreed, dined with the Cardinal in the banqueting-hall, and, as there were many other important guests that day, he made merry, and thought no more about the prisoner. While he was sitting, however, with his host and Priuli, Rodomont Bittern entered, and, bowing to the Cardinal, said,

"Your Eminence desired to be informed when Derrick Carver came back. As the clock struck five, he returned to his cell." Pole smiled, and, turning to the bishop, observed,

"I was right in my judgment of him, you perceive."

"I cannot deny it," replied Bonner. "Nevertheless, I would advise your Eminence to recal your permission. Most assuredly he will do much mischief out of doors."

"If it turn out so, he shall be kept within his cell," rejoined Pole.

Shortly after this, Bonner took leave of the Cardinal, but before quitting the palace, he satisfied himself, by personal inspection, that Carver was safe in his cell. He found him, as usual, reading the Bible, and if he had dared would have vented his rage upon him by causing him to be tied to the whipping-post in the chamber beneath and scourged.

"I will have him burnt as soon as possible," he observed to Mallet. "It is monstrous that such a vile wretch should be treated with so much leniency. And what of the Cardinal's other cadelamb, Mistress Constance Tyrrell? Has she been brought back from her apostasy?"

"I cannot say, in sooth, my lord," replied Mallet. "But I incline to think not, seeing she doth not attend mass."

"Not attend mass! Then she is still defiled by heresy," cried Bonner. "We will have her at Smithfield in spite of the Cardinal.", And with this amiable resolve he departed.

Next morning Carver went forth again, returning punctually at five o'clock in the evening, and he pursued the same course for nearly a week, rather anticipating his time than staying beyond it. One evening, however, he did not appear as usual. Three hours more went by, and still he came not, and then Mallet thought it right to acquaint the Cardinal with his prolonged absence. The information caused Pole to look grave.

"Something must have happened to him," he said. "I do not believe he would have stayed away of his own accord, still less do I deem he has any design of evasion. Send Rodomont Bittern to me."

On Rodomont's arrival, the Cardinal ordered him to make immediate inquiries after the prisoner, and to take any persons with him who might aid in the quest.

"My own opinion is that the man has fallen into a snare," Pole said. "But I leave it to your shrewdness to discover what has

become of him."

"In obedience to your Eminence's injunctions his movements have not been watched," replied Rodomont, "so that we have no clue to guide us. Nevertheless, I will essay to find him."

"About the business forthwith, and with a good heart," said the Cardinal. "You are quick-witted, and your penetration will put you on the right track."

Taking with him his lieutenants, Jack Holiday and Nick Simnel, Rodomont set out on his mission. Revolving what the Cardinal had said while dismissing him, he came to the conclusion that he should get on the right track by going to Bonner, who, he suspected, had a strong motive for keeping the prisoner out of the

way.

Accordingly, he entered the Cardinal's barge with his friends, bidding the oarsmen row them with all possible despatch to the stairs at Paul's Chain, where, landing, they made the best of their way to the palace of the Bishop of London-a large edifice, which then stood on the north-west side of the cathedral.

From the porter at the palace gate they ascertained that Bonner was attending vespers in Saint Paul's, where they could speak with him on the conclusion of the service. Rodomont then inquired from the porter whether any heretics had been arrested that day. The man replied that several had been taken at a conventicle in Foster-lane, and that the chief sacramentary, who had been holding forth to the others, was detained in a strong-room in the gate till the lord bishop should decide what was to be done with him.

Rodomont then explained to the porter that he was an officer in Cardinal Pole's household, and with his companions was in search of an heretical prisoner named Derrick Carver, and this perchance might be he.

"Marry, 'tis the very man," replied the porter.

Whereupon, he unlocked the door of the strong-room, and showed them Carver within it, seated on a bench, with his hands tied behind his back with cords. Rodomont would fain have carried him off at once, but this the porter would not permit, saying they must tarry till the bishop returned from Saint Paul's.

Half an hour elapsed before Bonner made his appearance, and when he found Rodomont and his comrades there he was exceedingly wrath, and refused to give up the prisoner.

The knave was taken at a conventicle in Foster-lane," he said, "where he was preaching heretical doctrines, praying against her Majesty, and giving the communion according to the prohibited book of service. I greatly marvel that the Cardinal should allow such a pestilent wretch to go forth to spread contagion abroad. Depart now, and tell his Eminence that I will bring back

the man to him to-morrow. He is safe here, as ye can bear witness."

"Our orders are to bring him back wherever we may find him," rejoined Rodomont, "and those we must obey."

"What!" cried Bonner. "Will ye take him from me by force?" "We trust your lordship will not drive us to that extremity," replied Rodomont. "We claim this man as the Lord Cardinal's prisoner, and we require your lordship to deliver him up to us. If you resist, the fault will rest with you."

"E'en take him, then," rejoined Bonner, furiously. "But ye may rest assured I will not be robbed of my prey. He is a preacher of heresy and sedition, a blasphemer and traitor, and I will burn him in spite of the Cardinal. It shall go hard if I burn not Mistress Constance Tyrrell at the same time."

Rodomont and his comrades stayed to hear no more, but carried off the prisoner, and placing him in the barge, conveyed him to Lambeth Palace. On arriving there they took him at once before the Cardinal, and Rodomont explained what had occurred.

"Your Eminence will perceive that I was forcibly detained," said Carver. "Had it not been so, I should have returned at the appointed hour."

"I sent you not forth to propagate heresy and sedition," said Pole, severely. "You have broken the compact between us, and abused my confidence. You can go. forth no more."

Carver bowed his head in submission, and was taken to his cell in the Lollards' Tower.

II.

HOW A SOLEMN PROCESSION WAS FORMED AT SAINT PAULS'S, AND SET FORTH TOWARDS SMITHFIELD.

FIVE Protestant divines, amongst whom were Hooper, the deprived Bishop of Gloucester, and Rogers, a prebend of Saint Paul's, having been excommunicated and delivered to the sheriffs, and continuing firm in the maintenance of their opinions, they were doomed to death at the stake. It was appointed that Hooper should suffer at Gloucester, and Rogers at Smithfield, and it was furthermore appointed that Rogers should be the first to die. Rogers, we may mention, was one of the first theological scholars of the age, and had assisted Tyndal in translating the Bible in the time of Henry VIII.

At the earnest solicitation of Gardiner and Bonner, the King consented to be present at the celebration of this act of faith, but Cardinal Pole refused to attend it, stating that he would not countenance such a proceeding. Enraged at his opposition, the two prelates took the only revenge in their power, and procured a warrant from the Queen authorising them to compel the attendance at the terrible ceremonial of any heretical prisoners they might

designate. Armed with this warrant, on the night previous to the execution they gave notice to the Cardinal that they should send for Derrick Carver and Constance Tyrrell at an early hour on the

morrow.

That night, as enjoined by the Cardinal, and as her own feelings would have prompted without the injunction, Constance never sought her couch, but spent the hours in prayer and meditation. Before daybreak she awoke old Dorcas, who was slumbering tranquilly, and with her aid attired herself carefully in dark habiliments, and, thus prepared, patiently awaited the anticipated summons. Ere long, a gentle tap was heard without, and the door being opened by Dorcas, the Cardinal entered.

"I have come to see you before you set out, daughter," he said. "My own heart is sad. I have passed the night in vigil and prayer, yet I do not feel comforted. I cannot divest myself of the dread that this day will be prejudicial to our religion. A just man is about to be sacrificed, and his blood will cry out for vengeance. But here come the guard," he added, as Rodomont and his companions appeared at the doorway. "Are you ready?"

"Quite ready," she replied. "But before I leave, let me crave a blessing from your Eminence."

"You have it, daughter," he replied, extending his arms over her. "May Heaven sustain you during the awful scene you will be compelled to witness!"

Quitting the room, she followed Rodomont and the others to the outer court. At the Lollards' Tower they were joined by Derrick Carver, who was brought forth by Mallet. On beholding Constance, the enthusiast uttered a joyful exclamation, but he was not permitted to converse with her, and the party proceeded in silence to the wharf without the palace gate, where lay a barge, which had been sent for the prisoners by Bonner.

Within this vessel were two Dominicans, an officer of the guard, and a couple of halberdiers. At the prow was displayed a black banner, on which was inscribed the words: ExURGE, DOMINE, ET JUDICA CAUSAM TUAM, ET DISSIPENTUR INIMICI FIDEI.

The prisoners having entered the barge with Rodomont Bittern, who had been enjoined by the Cardinal to attend them, the vessel was pushed off, and moved down the stream.

The morning was dark and raw. A fog hung over the river, partly concealing the objects on its banks. Officers and men

maintained a moody silence, and the only sound heard was a doleful hymn chanted by the Dominicans, and taken up by the occupants of some skiffs that had accompanied the barge from Lambeth. At Paul's Wharf the prisoners were landed, and conducted thence up Bennet's Hill and Paul's Chain to the Cathedral.

Matins were just over, and within the broad nave of the noble fane a great number of priests, attired in their robes, were assembled, prior to marching in solemn procession to Smithfield.

In the aisles, guarded by halberdiers, were collected groups of recusants of both sexes, brought thither to give effect to the ceremonial. Apart from these, but likewise brought from prison to grace the procession, were several deprived divines of the Protestant Church, some of whom afterwards testified to their faith at the stake, while others were starved in their cells, or died from ill treatment. Many who then met on that melancholy morn, and exchanged a friendly greeting, or a few words of comfort, saw each other for the last time on earth. But in the faces of these stouthearted champions of the Protestant Church no traces of doubt or discouragement could be discerned. They were evidently prepared to meet their fate with resolution. Neither did they manifest sorrow for the brother about to suffer, regarding him as one whose trials were well-nigh over, and who was certain of meeting his reward.

Within the nave and aisles were congregated a vast number of spectators of the solemn scene.

Close to one of the enormous columns lining the south aisle of the magnificent fane stood Constance. She was looking with a wistful eye at the deprived Protestant divines, when her own name was breathed in her ear by some one close behind.

Not doubting who spoke, she partly turned her head, and perceived Osbert Clinton, who, screened from the guard by the pillar, had contrived to approach her. The only person who noticed the manœuvre was Rodomont, but the kind-hearted fellow looked another way, and tried not to hear what was passing.

Not much was said-but the few words spoke of the young man's wretchedness at the protracted separation from her he loved. "Be patient," she said. "All will be well in the end."

"Talk not to me of patience," he rejoined. "I am unable to practise it. My heart will burst in the effort. I cannot live without you, Constance. Commit yourself to me, and I will free you. You will be gone before the guard can notice your absence; and once mingled with the throng, you will be safe. Come!"

"I cannot dare not go," she replied. "What would the good Cardinal think of me if I complied?"

"Heed him not, but think of me, whom you doom to misery by hesitation. Do not throw away this chance. Another may not

occur.'

"Pass if you will," interposed the friendly Rodomont, in a low voice. "I shall hear and see nothing."

Squeezing his arm by way of thanks, Osbert renewed his entreaties to Constance.

"No, I cannot do it," she rejoined. "My word to the Queen restrains me."

"What! not gone!" exclaimed Rodomont, looking round. "Pest! it is now too late."