“The door!” she whispered.

The woman was across the room in an instant, on tip-toe, and drew the single slender bolt.  The Queen made a sharp gesture; the woman fled back again on one side, and out through the further door, and the old man hobbled after her.  It was as if every detail had been rehearsed.  The door closed noiselessly.

Then the Queen rose up, as Robin, understanding, began to fumble with his breast.  And, as he drew out the pyx, and placed it on the handkerchief (in reality a corporal), apparently so carelessly laid by the crucifix, Mary sank down in adoration of her Lord.

“Now, mon pere,” she whispered, still kneeling, but lifting her star-bright eyes.  And the priest went across to the couch where the Queen had lain, and sat down on it.

“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti—­” began Mary.

IV

When the confession was finished, Robin went across, at the Queen’s order, and tapped with his finger-nail upon the door, while she herself remained on her knees.  The door opened instantly, and the two came in, the woman first, bearing two lighted tapers.  She set these down one on either side of the crucifix, and herself knelt with the old physician.

...  Then Robin gave holy communion to the Queen of the Scots....

V

She was back again on her couch now, once more as drowsy-looking as ever.  The candlesticks were gone again; the handkerchief still in its place, and the woman back again behind the couch.  The two men kneeled close beside her, near enough to hear every whisper.

“Listen, gentlemen,” she said softly, “I cannot tell you what you have done for my soul to-day—­both of you, since I could never have had the priest without my friend....  I cannot reward you, but our Lord will do so abundantly....  Listen, I know that I am going to my death, and I thank God that I have made my peace with Him.  I do not know if they will allow me to see a priest again.  But I wish to say this to both of you—­as I said just now in my confession, to you, mon pere—­that I am wholly and utterly guiltless of the plot laid to my charge; that I had neither part nor wish nor consent in it.  I desired only to escape from my captivity....  I would have made war, if I could, yes, but as for accomplishing or assisting in her Grace’s death, the thought was never near me.  Those whom I thought my friends have entrapped me, and have given colour to the tale.  I pray our Saviour to forgive them as I do; and with that Saviour now in my breast I tell you—­and you may tell all the world if you will—­that I am guiltless of what they impute to me.  I shall die for my Religion, and nothing but that.  And I thank you again, mon pere, et vous, mon ami, que vous avez....”

Her voice died away in inaudible French, and her eyes closed.