sentence was to be carried out on the Princess Elizabeth without delay.
When Bridges received the warrant he was bewildered.
Nothing had been proved against Elizabeth, although she was under constant suspicion. Was she to be executed without trial? That did not appeal to the fair-minded Bridges. He was proud of his office; he wanted justice to prevail in his domain. Moreover he was not insensible to the charm of the Princess. She was so young and her good spirits and bravery in captivity had made a marked impression on him; he was also not unmindful of what the future might bring.
A death warrant! Instructions to hurry on with the execution, to keep it secret and hustle the Princess from her prison to the scaffold in the early morning, to behead her while the country was ignorant of what was happening!
“I like that not!” murmured Bridges.
The Queen was not by nature a cruel woman, and the Princess had implied that she was very willing to accept the Catholic Faith. Bridges did not believe that the Queen would wish to take the life of her sister except on religious grounds, or of course, if treason were proved against her—which was not the case.
He examined the death warrant once more. That was not the Queen’s signature. He looked closely. Yes, Gardiner had signed for the Queen during her indisposition.
Bridges made up his mind. He would rather risk Gardiner’s displeasure than send a young girl to her death.
He took up his pen and wrote to Gardiner:
“I see that this warrant does not bear Her Majesty’s signature, and I should consider I was not acting within the bounds of my duty if I allowed to take place an execution of so important a state prisoner without special instructions from Her Majesty the Queen.”
Gardiner was furious when he received the letter and realized that his plan had miscarried. He pondered the matter for a few days, wondering whether to command Bridges to carry out his wishes. But in the meantime the Queen had recovered, and when she heard what had happened she was horrified.
All her sentimental feelings came to the surface. She remembered the baby Elizabeth who had won her affection. Elizabeth was misguided; she had been brought up in the wrong religion; and it was true that she must be looking with ambition toward the throne; but nothing had been proved against her—and she was Mary’s own sister.
She did not reprimand Gardiner; she had too high an opinion of him. She knew that he was a staunch Catholic and that in itself endeared him to her. It was Elizabeth, the heretic, whom he wished to persecute; and she was not sure that he was not right in that.
As for herself she saw Elizabeth as her sister—heretic though she might be. Elizabeth was young; she had not been proved a traitor; therefore it was the Queen’s duty to save her from heresy.
Mary called to her a man whom she trusted completely; this was her old friend Sir Henry Bedingfeld.
“I have a task for you,” she told him, “which I would entrust to no other.”
“I shall execute it with all the strength at my disposal, Your Majesty.”
“I know it, dear Bedingfeld. That is why I give it to you. I know you will watch over her and that you will be just, both to her and to me. I speak of my sister.”
Bedingfeld was dismayed.
“Yes, my dear friend,” went on the Queen, “I have decided to put the Princess in your charge. You will watch over her night and day. Every action of hers will be noted and, if need be, reported to me. This is a difficult task I have set you, but, my lord, I do so because I know you to be one of the few about me whom I can trust.”
“I am your Majesty’s obedient and humble servant.”
But he showed himself to be perplexed, and Mary marveled that a man as courageous as Bedingfeld should be so disturbed at the prospect of guarding a young girl.
Elizabeth heard the approach of Sir Henry Bedingfeld with a hundred men-at-arms. From a window she saw them and when she knew that they were all about her apartments she feared this could mean only one thing, and her terrors returned. She clung to her favorite attendant, Isabella Markham, and cried: “Isabella, this is the end. I did not think I should greatly mind, but I do. My sister has sent Bedingfeld to see her orders carried out. Tell