League, he felt that every friend of Rome and of the ancient order must be up at once. They had no time to lose. If Fox and Heath brought back a good report, the King might join that Gospel League, and England might be hopelessly cut off from Rome. Learning that Cromwell was estranged from Anne, and might be willing to destroy her, he suggested to the Secretary of State that the way to ruin Anne was to accuse her of unfaithfulness to the King. But Gardiner's hints arrived at an unlucky time. The hope which had already failed her was renewed. Again the doctors and astrologers told the King he was to have a son. Anne was again the sweetheart, and a shadow fell across the path of Jane.

5. Anne now gave up her task of reconciling Mary to her father. Lady Shelton had been trying to bring her charge into a gentler frame of mind, using, by the Queen's authority, a softer method than either King or council had prescribed. But she had met with no success. "My pleasure is," Anne wrote to Lady Shelton, "that you no further seek to move the Lady Mary towards the King's grace, other than as he himself directed in his own words to her. What I have done myself, has been more from charity, than because the King or I can care what course she takes, or whether she will change, or will not change her purpose. When I shall have a son, as soon I look to have, I know not what will then come to her. Remembering the Word of God that we should do good to our enemies, I have wished to give her notice before the time, because

by my daily experience, I know the wisdom of the King to be such, that he will not value her repentance on the cessation of her madness and unnatural obstinacy when she has no longer power to choose. She would acknowledge her error and evil conscience, by the law of God and the King, if blind affection had not so sealed her eyes that she will not see but what she pleases. Mrs. Shelton, I beseech you trouble not yourself to turn her from any of her wilful ways, for to me she can do neither good nor ill. Do your own duty towards her, following the King's commandment, as I am assured that you do and will do, and you shall find me your good lady, whatever comes."

6. Lady Exeter ran to Chapuys with news that the King was in a sullen mood. He had been heard to say the two ladies should either bend or break. One of his councillors was saying that the King would not go on as he had done; that his vexations were too great to bear any longer; that, as Parliament was about to meet, he should refer his business to the peers and burgesses. "This news is true as gospel," said Lady Exeter; "for God's sake let the Emperor know the worst in time; and beg him to do something for the honour of his blood." Chapuys answered that his Majesty was worried by the Turks, the Lutherans, and other enemies; but he would write and see what could be done. A few days later, Lady Exeter came to his lodgings in disguise, and told him things were getting worse and worse. The "concubine" was conspiring to be rid of Catharine and Mary, and Henry, in his

present mood, would let her do so if she liked. Parliament, she added, was about to meet, and when the peers and burgesses met, the King would make them partners in his crimes. Anne was governing every one at court. Unless the Emperor spoke at once, his word would come too late. Parliament would be committed to the King, and knowing that the Emperor would never overlook their votes, both lords and commoners might rally round the Queen.

7. While these conspirators were at their work, intelligence from Kimbolton suddenly changed the aspect of events.

CHAPTER III.

Kimbolton.

1535-36.

1. BEGGING an audience of the King, Chapuys informed his Grace that Catharine was dangerously sick. Henry was surprised. No news of any change in her condition had arrived at Court, though Bedyngfeld and Chamberlain, his trusty officers, were living at Kimbolton in the house with her. Chapuys assured him that his news was true; the Queen was sick-yea, sick to death. "To death!" growled Henry, thinking of the trouble she was causing him; "if she were but to die, my quarrels with the Emperor would cease." Chapuys requested leave to go and see her; a request that could not be refused to an imperial envoy. Chapuys, however, wanted something more. The Princess Mary, urged the plotter, ought to go and see her mother ere that mother died. Might he conduct the Princess to Kimbolton for these last adieux?

2. It was a strange request. Though Henry was far from guessing to what lengths and depths his visitor was prepared to go, he saw at once the impudence of a foreign agent asking to be present in the last conference of Mary and her mother. Mary was not a Spanish subject, and the envoy had no charge of her. She was an English girl, subject to

the English law. Some hope had recently been given by Jane Seymour, that Mary would ere long submit, renounce her mother's cause, and enter a religious house. A private conference at Kimbolton, near the dying bed of Catharine, in the presence of imperial envoys, doctors, and attendants, would be sure, he thought, to dash those hopes. Henry had no suspicion that these hints of Mary's meekness were but tricks arranged by Chapuys to deceive him with the Emperor's approval and the Princess's help. Chapuys, the King rejoined, might go to Kimbolton, but as to taking Mary with him, that could hardly be allowed. But Chapuys, seeing the King desirous of satisfying him, pressed the point. "Well," said Henry, "we will think about it, and consult our Council."

3. From the day of her arrival at Kimbolton, Catharine had chosen to regard herself as being a prisoner and a martyr of her Church. Nothing in her outward state suggested either prisoner's cell or martyr's crown. She had the residence and the household of a princess; she retained the ladies and the ushers of her choice; she kept her Spanish confessor, her Spanish physician, and her Spanish women. No one prevented her from walking in the Park, from going up to Stonely Priory, and from driving to St. Neots. Yet Catharine closed her gates and hid her face. She never asked for Bedyngfeld and Chamberlain. These officers dared not address her as Queen; and she would suffer no one to approach her presence who declined to disobey the law. "I am his wife; I am his Queen;