wet stone; Lord Chandos begged her to come under shelter out of the rain: 'better sitting here than in a worse place,' she cried; 'I know not whither you will bring me.'
But it was not in Elizabeth's nature to protract a vain resistance; she rose, and passed on, and as she approached the room intended for her, the heavy doors along the corridor were locked and barred behind her. At the grating of the iron bolts the heart of Lord Sussex sank in him: Sussex knew the Queen's true feelings, and the efforts which were made to lash her into cruelty; 'What mean ye, my Lords,' he said to Chandos and Grage, 'what will you do?' 'she was a King's daughter, and is the Queen's sister; go no further than your commission, which I know what it is.'[1]
The chief danger was of murder—of some swift desperate act which could not be undone: the Lords who had so reluctantly permitted Elizabeth to be imprisoned would not allow her to be openly sacrificed, or indeed permit the Queen to continue in the career of vengeance on which she had entered. The executions on account of the rebellion had not ceased even yet. In Kent, London, and in the midland counties, day after day, one, two, or more persons had been put to death; six gentlemen were, at that very moment, on their way to Maidstone and Rochester to suffer. The Lords, on the day of Elizabeth's committal, held a meeting while Gardiner was engaged elsewhere; they determined to
- ↑ Contemporary Narrative: Harleian MSS. 419. Chronicle of Queen Mary, p. 71. Holinshed.
