elied the loyal education they had given
him. The divided religion of the country had been his bane: his
mother's charge secretly to follow her faith had been the beginning,
and then had followed the charms of stratagem on behalf of Queen Mary.

Perhaps, after all, his death, as a repentant man still single minded,
saved him from lapsing into the double vileness of the veteran
intriguers whose prey he had been.

"I commend me to the Mercy Master Who sees my heart," he said.

Herewith the warder returned, and at his request summoned Gillingham, a
sturdy grizzled fellow, looking grim with grief. Babington told him of
the arrangement made, and that he was to leave London early in the
morning with Mr. Talbot, but the man immediately dropped on his knees
and swore a solemn oath that nothing should induce him to leave the
place while his master breathed.

"Thou foolish knave," said Antony, "thou canst do me no good, and wilt
but make thyself a more piteous wretch than thou art already. Why, 'tis
for love of thee that I would have thee spared the sight."

"Am I a babe to be spared?" growled the man. And all that he could be
induced to promise was that he would repair to Bridgefield as soon as
all was over--"Unless," said he, "I meet one of those accursed rogues,
and then a halter would be sweet, if I had first had my will of them."

"Hush, Harry, or Master Warder will be locking thee up next," said
Antony.

And then came the farewell. It was at last a long, speechless,
sorrowful embrace; and then Antony, slipping from it to his knees,
said--"Bless me! Oh bless me: thou who hast been mine only true
friend. Bless me as a father!"

"May God in Heaven bless thee!" said Richard, solemnly laying his hand
on his head. "May He, Who knoweth how thou hast been led astray,
pardon thee! May He, Who hath felt the agonies and shame of the Cross,
redeem thee, and suffer thee not for any pains of death to fall from
Him!"

He was glad to hear afterwards, when broken-hearted Gillingham joined
him, that the last words heard from Antony Babington's lips
were--"Parce mihi, Domine JESU!"

CHAPTER XXXIV.

FOTHERINGHAY.

"Is this my last journey?" said Queen Mary, with a strange, sad smile,
as she took her seat in the heavy lumbering coach which had been
appointed for her conveyance from Chartley, her rheumatism having set
in too severely to permit her to ride.

"Say not so; your Grace has weathered many a storm befor