Latimer, being old and feeble, died almost immediately; Ridley lingered and suffered greatly.

There were two more to haunt my dreams.

MY GREAT CONSOLATION at that time was Reginald. I spent hours with him. He had done so much in aiding the return to Rome. I was hoping that in time he would come to be Archbishop of Canterbury now that Cranmer was in prison.

It seemed to me that that was a post which would suit him. He had more understanding of Church affairs than those of government.

While we talked, I often found myself slipping into a daydream, wondering how different my life might have been if I had married him as my mother and his had wished.

In spite of his saintliness, there was a strong streak of bitterness in his nature. It was understandable. His happy family life had been completely changed because my father had desired Anne Boleyn and had thrust aside with ruthless ferocity all those who had stood in his way. And so many had.

It was that which had changed the course of our lives, and Reginald could not forget it.

I was right. The martyrdom of Ridley and Latimer had had its effect. No one could have witnessed such a spectacle without being deeply affected by it. There was murmuring all over the country.

I was so unhappy that I fell into fits of melancholy. I was tired and spiritless. I longed for Philip. His absence was to have been brief, he had said, but in my heart I knew that, once he had gone, he would not hurry to return.

Here I was, barren and lonely, having to face the fact that the child I had so desperately wanted was nothing but a myth.

Why had God deserted me? I asked myself. When had He ever given me aught to be thankful for? Why should I be so ill-used? Those were dangerous thoughts. I must subdue them. I must, as my mother would have said, accept my lot and keep my steps steadily upon the path of righteousness.

It was inevitable that there should be plots; and there was one which could have been very dangerous.

Every few weeks someone was accusing someone. It was often proved that a person had a grudge against another or someone had made a certain remark which could have been construed as treason; but when a conspiracy was discovered which involved the King of France, that was a serious matter.

It was by great good fortune that this came to light before it had gone too far, because one of the plotters lost his confidence in the success of the rebellion and went along to Reginald to confess what he knew.

His name was Thomas White, and his part in the scheme was to rob the Exchequer of ?50,000.

Reginald had been skeptical at first, but when White explained that he was friendly with the wife of one of the tellers in the Exchequer who had promised to get impressions made of her husband's keys, he took it seriously.

Robbery was one crime, treason was another; but it emerged that robbery was a preliminary to the greater plan. The money was needed by Sir Henry Dudley to get together an army of mercenaries who would be banded together in France and who would cross the Channel to attack the south coast.

This Sir Henry Dudley was the distant cousin of the Duke of Northumberland who had set Jane Grey on the throne. The Dudleys were a formidable family, and the fact that he belonged to it made him a figure of importance not only in my eyes but in those of many others.

If only Philip were here! I needed a strong man beside me, for it had become clear that the plot was far-reaching. I wondered whom I could trust among those around me. I could rely, as I knew from the past, on my dear friends Rochester and Jerningham, and I asked them to choose men whom they could trust to investigate what was going on.

It was revealed that the French ambassador, de Noailles, who had always caused much anxiety, was fully aware of what was happening and was reporting it to his master, on whom they were relying for help. John Throckmorton, a relative of Nicholas who had sent the goldsmith to warn me of my brother Edward's death, was one of the leaders of the plot and that threw suspicion on Nicholas.

The magnitude of the scheme was alarming, involving the French as it did. Plans for landing and taking the Tower of London were revealed, and they had all been drawn up very carefully.

I was very tired and sick. I almost longed for death.

Meanwhile the conspirators were brought to justice. The object of the plot had been to dispatch me as I had dispatched Jane Grey, and to set up Elizabeth, who would marry Courtenay.

I did not believe for one moment that Elizabeth was aware of this. She would not be so foolish. She knew the state of my health and that it would be wiser to wait. Surely I could not have long to live? I did not wish to. If Philip would return to me and I could have a child, then only would life be worth living. But deep within me I feared that would never be. I was too old. I had this illness in my inner organs. It was what had plagued me all my life. I tried to fight against the conviction that it had made me barren; and I fought hard to reject the idea because I could not bear to accept it.

It was said that Sir Anthony Kingston was involved in the conspiracy. He was in Devonshire and immediately commanded to come to London to stand trial with the others.

I was to learn that he died on the journey to London. It was rumored that he had killed himself rather than face trial.

The prisoners were tried and questioned. Only John Throckmorton proved himself to be a brave man and, even when racked most ferociously, he refused to betray any of his fellow conspirators and declared he would die rather than reveal anything. The others were less brave and implicated others, some of them men in high positions.

Executions followed and there were further arrests.

The Council urged that Elizabeth be brought for questioning, but I would not have that. I believed she was loyal to me, and I did not want them to trump up a charge against her. Apart from my sisterly feelings toward her, I feared that, if she were harmed in any way, the people would rise in strength against me. She had won their hearts. I had always known that her popularity far exceeded my own.

I wanted nothing now so much as to be left alone with my grief and melancholy.

THE BURNING OF PROTESTANTS continued. It was only when some notable person was led to the stake that it was an event.

So it was with Cranmer.

As Archbishop of Canterbury, Cranmer had played a big part in my father's affairs and had been one of the prime movers in the break with the Church of Rome; and it was thought that it would be safe and wise to be rid of him.

He was a man of great intellectuality but such men are often less brave than others. Cranmer was not a brave man… not until the very end. The return of papal authority must have filled him with terror, for he would know that one who had been at the very heart of the break would find himself in a difficult position.

I was pleased when he signed a declaration agreeing that, as Philip and I had admitted the Pope's authority in England, he would submit to our views. That should have been enough; and doubtless it would have been but for his position in the country and the effect he would have on so many people.

I had said that those who admitted their heresy and turned to the true faith would be free. But there were politics to be considered as well as religion and, much as I deplored this, I was overruled.

If only Philip had been here, I said, over and over again; but I knew that if Philip were here he would be on the side of the Council. Yet I deluded myself into thinking that he would have stood by me. I had to delude myself. It was the only way to bring a glimmer of hope into my life.

Cranmer signed two documents. In one he agreed that he would put the Pope before the King and Queen; and in the other he promised complete obedience to the King and Queen as to the Pope's supremacy.