ther asked if she were ill; "for (said she),
you look ever so white and faint!" It was no wonder, when she looked up
into the unforgotten face of Sir Thomas Palmer.

Thirteen years had passed since she saw him; but Isoult knew him in a
moment. All the old Calais memories came flashing back on her like an
overwhelming flood, drowning the newer evil he had done, as she saw this
man, who had persecuted the saints of God, who had done the Duke of
Somerset to death, who had been one of the four destroyers of her
beloved master--led to his prison and to his suffering in turn.

Sir Thomas looked at Isoult as he passed, seeing her eyes fixed on him;
but it was the look of a stranger to a stranger.

The storm broke now. Few days passed unmarked by fresh arrests. The
phrase "the Queen" had almost insensibly passed from Jane to Mary. But
for a little while yet the crisis was political, not religious. When
the danger was over, and before Mary reached her metropolis, the scene
was shifted, and the first Protestant arrest took place. And so sudden
and unexpected was the blow, that it fell upon the Gospellers like a
thunderbolt. Thirty hours had barely elapsed since her meeting with Sir
Thomas Palmer, when Isoult, coming down into the parlour, heard her
husband's voice say sorrowfully--"Ay, this is the beginning of sorrows."

"Is there any more news?" cried Isoult, fearfully; for fresh news then
meant bad news.

"The worst we have had yet," he said; "the Bishop of London is committed
to the Tower."

"And that all suddenly, with scantly a minute's warning," added Dr
Thorpe.

"Woe worth the day!" she wailed. "Ay, thou mayest say so," answered he.
"God grant this be not the first step of a longer and dreader
persecution than we have yet known."

On Friday the Duke of Suffolk was brought to the Tower, where his
hapless daughter remained a prisoner. But on the Monday following,
Suffolk was released.

"To ease the Tower dungeons, which must now be choke-full," suggested Dr
Thorpe; "or it may be the Queen thought him a sely [harmless, simple]
fellow, not worth the turning of an axe edge."

The Queen's grand entry into London took place on the 3rd of August.
There was no need for any in the Minories to go far to see her, for she
came to them, riding down Shoreditch and in at Aldgate. She was
preceded by a guard of seven hundred and forty "velvet coats;" then rode
that "honourable man" my Lord of Arundel, bearing in his