as thy
sovereign, to spare his life!"

"You know not what you ask, madam," replied Murray, stalking up and down
the apartment. "How can his life be spared consistently with your
honour? Save him, and you will set a thousand slanderous tongues
a-wagging. It may not, must not, be."

Mary herself could not deny the force of this remark, and, finding she
had nothing to oppose to it, she flung herself into a chair, and again
burst into tears. In this condition the earl left her, to give orders
respecting the execution of Chatelard on the following day, and to put
another proceeding in train for obtaining that result which he had aimed
at on the trial of the unfortunate young man. Sending again for
Choisseul--

"Friend," he said, on that person's entering the apartment, "I wish
another small piece of service at your hands."

Choisseul bowed, and expressed his readiness to do anything he might be
required to do.

"I vas proud to discharge all de drops of my blood in your service, my
lor'," said the knave, with a profound obeisance.

The earl carelessly nodded approbation.

"To-night, then, Choisseul," he went on, "you will repair to the dungeon
in which Chatelard is confined. You will see him as a friend. You
understand me?"

"Ah, well, my lor', vere well."

"Just so. Well, then, you will hint to him that you have reason to
believe he might yet save his life by confessing a participation in his
guilt on the part of the queen. You may add, though not as from me, of
course, that I have no doubt of his having been encouraged to those
liberties for which his life is forfeited; and you may say that you know
I feel for him, and would readily procure his pardon, if he would only
give me a reasonable ground or pretext for doing so, by showing that
there were _others_ equally in fault with him. Do you entirely
understand me, Choisseul?"

"Entirely, my lor'," replied the latter; "bright, clear, as noonday at
the sun."

"So, then, return to me when you have seen Chatelard, and let me know
the result," said the earl.

Choisseul once more withdrew, to perform the treacherous and knavish
part assigned him. About midnight he sought the dungeon of the unhappy
gentleman, and, having been admitted by the guards, found him busily
employed in writing; the indulgence of a lamp, with pen, ink, and paper,
having, at his most earnest request, been afforded him. Indeed, these
were more readily and willingly given than he was aware of