'Then why should these men have been sent but to sting and gall me, and make me feel that I am in their power?' cried the Queen.
'They came,' said the Secretary Curll, 'because thus alone could the Countess be silenced.'
'The Countess!' exclaimed Mary. 'So my cousin hath listened to her tongue!'
'Backed by her daughter's,' added Jean Kennedy.
'It were well that she knew what those two dames can say of her Majesty herself, when it serves them,' added Marie de Courcelles.
'That shall she!' exclaimed Mary. 'She shall have it from mine own hand! Ha! ha! Elizabeth shall know the choice tales wherewith Mary Talbot hath regaled us, and then shall she judge how far anything that comes from my young lady is worth heeding for a moment. Remember you all the tales of the nips and the pinches? Ay, and of all the endearments to Leicester and to Hatton? She shall have it all, and try how she likes the dish of scandal of Mary Talbot's cookery, sauced by Bess of Hardwicke. Here, nurse, come and set this head-gear of mine in order, and do you, my good Curll, have pen, ink, and paper in readiness for me.'
The Queen did little but write that morning. The next day, on coming out from morning prayers, which the Protestants of her suite attended, with the rest of the Shrewsbury household, Barbara Mowbray contrived to draw Mrs. Talbot apart as they went towards the lodge.
'Madam,' she said, 'they all talk of your power to persuade. Now is the time you could do what would be no small service to this poor Queen, ay, and it may be to your own children.'
'I may not meddle in any matters of the Queen's,' returned Susan, rather stiffly.
'Nay, but hear me, madam. It is only to hinder the sending of a letter.'
'That letter which her Grace was about to write yesterday?'
'Even so. 'Tis no secret, for she read fragments of it aloud, and all her women applauded it with all their might, and laughed over the stings that it would give, but Mr. Curll, who bad to copy it, saith that there is a bitterness in it that can do nothing but make her Majesty of England the more inflamed, not only against my Lady Shrewsbury, but against her who writ the letter, and all concerned. Why, she hath even brought in the comedy that your children acted in the woodland, and that was afterwards repeated in the hall!'
'You say not so, Mistress Barbara?'
'Indeed I do. Mr. Curll and Sir Andrew Melville are both of them sore vexed, and would fain have her withdraw it; but Master Nau and all the French part of the household know not how to rejoice enough at such an exposure of my Lady, which gives a hard fling at Queen Elizabeth at the same time! Nay, I cannot but tell you that there are things in it that Dame Mary Talbot might indeed say, but I know not how Queen Mary could bring herself to set down-'
Barbara Mowbray ventured no more, and Susan felt hopeless of her task, since how was she by any means to betray knowledge of the contents of the letter? Yet much that she had heard made her feel very uneasy on all accounts. She had too much strong family regard for the Countess and for Gilbert Talbot and his wife to hear willingly of what might imperil them, and though royal indignation would probably fly over the heads of the children, no one was too obscure in those Tudor times to stand in danger from a sovereign who might think herself insulted. Yet as a Hardwicke, and the wife of a Talbot, it was most unlikely that she would have any opening for remonstrance given to her.
However, it was possible that Curll wished to give her an opening, for no sooner were the ladies settled at work than he bowed himself forward and offered his mistress his copy of the letter.
'Is it fair engrossed, good Curll?' asked Mary.
'Thanks. Then will we keep your copy, and you shall fold and prepare our own for our sealing.'
'Will not your Majesty hear it read over ere it pass out of your hands?' asked Curll.
'Even so,' returned Mary, who really was delighted with the pungency of her own composition. 'Mayhap we may have a point or two to add.'
After what Mistress Barbara had said, Susan was on thorns that Cis should hear the letter; but that good young lady, hating the expressions therein herself, and hating it still more for the girl, bethought her of asking permission to take Mistress Cicely to her own chamber, there to assist her in the folding of some of her laces, and Mary consented. It was well, for there was much that made the English-bred Susan's cheeks glow and her ears tingle.
But, at least, it gave her a great opportunity. When the letter was finished, she advanced and knelt on the step of the canopied chair, saying, 'Madam, pardon me, if in the name of my unfortunate children, I entreat you not to accuse them to the Queen.'
'Your children, lady! How have I included them in what I have told her Majesty of our sweet Countess?'
'Your Grace will remember that the foremost parts in yonder farce were allotted to my son Humfrey and to young Master Babington. Nay, that the whole arose from the woodland sport of little Cis, which your Grace was pleased to admire.'
'Sooth enough, my good gossip, but none could suspect the poor children of the malice my Lady Countess contrived to put into the matter.'
'Ah, madam! these are times when it is convenient to shift the blame on one who can be securely punished.'
'Certes,' said Mary, thoughtfully, 'the Countess is capable of making her escape by denouncing some one else, especially those within her own reach.'
'Your Grace, who can speak such truth of my poor Lady,' said Susan, 'will also remember that though my Lord did yield to the persuasions of the young ladies, he so heedfully caused Master Sniggins to omit all perilous matter, that no one not informed would have guessed at the import of the piece, as it was played in the hall.'
'Most assuredly not,' said Mary, laughing a little at the recollection. 'It might have been played in Westminster Hall without putting my gracious cousin, ay, or Leicester and Hatton themselves, to the blush.'
'Thus, if the Queen should take the matter up and trace it home, it could not but be brought to my poor innocent children! Humfrey is for the nonce out of reach, but the maiden-I wis verily that your Highness would be loath to do her any hurt!'
'Thou art a good pleader, madam,' said the queen. 'Verily I should not like to bring the bonnie lassie into trouble. It will give Master Curll a little more toil, ay and myself likewise, for the matter must stand in mine own hand; but we will leave out yonder unlucky farce.'
'Your Highness is very good,' said Susan earnestly.
'Yet you look not yet content, my good lady. What more would you have of me?'
'What your Majesty will scarce grant,' said Susan.
'Ha! thou art of the same house thyself. I had forgotten it; thou art so unlike to them. I wager that it is not to send this same letter at all.'
'Your Highness hath guessed my mind. Nay, madam, though assuredly I do desire it because the Countess bath been ever my good lady, and bred me up ever since I was an orphan, it is not solely for her sake that I would fain pray you, but fully as much for your Majesty's own.'
'Madame Talbot sees the matter as I do,' said Sir Andrew Melville. 'The English Queen is as like to be irate with the reporter of the scandal as with the author of it, even as the wolf bites the barb that pierces him when he cannot reach the archer.'
'She is welcome to read the letter,' said Mary, smiling; 'thy semblance falleth short, my good friend.'
'Nay, madam, that was not the whole of my purport,' said Susan, standing with folded hands, looking from one to another. 'Pardon me. My thought was that to take part in all this repeating of thoughtless, idle words, spoken foolishly indeed, but scarce so much in malice as to amuse your Grace with Court news, and treasured up so long, your Majesty descends from being the patient and suffering princess, meek, generous, and uncomplaining, to be-to be-'
'No better than one of them, wouldst thou add?' asked Mary, somewhat sharply, as Susan paused.
'Your Highness has said it,' answered Susan; then, as there was a moment's pause, she looked up, and with clasped hands added, 'Oh, madam! would it not be more worthy, more noble, more queenly, more Christian, to refrain from stinging with this repetition of these vain and foolish slanders?'
'Most Christian treatment have I met with,' returned Mary; but after a pause she turned to her almoner. Master Belton, saying, 'What say you, sir?'
'I say that Mrs. Talbot speaks more Christian words than are often heard in these parts,' returned he. 'The
