There was something perplexing and distressing to Cis in this sudden mood of exultation at such a suitor. However, Parma's proposal might mean liberty and a recovered throne, and who could wonder at the joy that even the faintest gleam of light afforded to one whose captivity had lasted longer than Cicely's young life?-and then once more there was an alternation of feeling at the last moment, when Cicely, dressed in her best, came to receive instructions.
'I ken not, I ken not,' said Mary, speaking the Scottish tongue, to which she recurred in her moments of deepest feeling, 'I ought not to let it go. I ought to tell the noble Prince to have naught to do with a being like me. 'Tis not only the jettatura wherewith the Queen Mother used to reproach me. Men need but bear me good will, and misery overtakes them. Death is the best that befalls them! The gentle husband of my girlhood-then the frantic Chastelar, my poor, poor good Davie, Darnley, Bothwell, Geordie Douglas, young Willie, and again Norfolk, and the noble and knightly Don John! One spark of love and devotion to the wretched Mary, and all is over with them! Give me back that paper, child, and warn Babington against ever dreaming of aid to a wretch like me. I will perish alone! It is enough! I will drag down no more generous spirits in the whirlpool around me.'
'Madam! madam!' exclaimed De Preaux the almoner, who was standing, 'this is not like your noble self. Have you endured so much to be fainthearted when the end is near, and you are made a smooth and polished instrument, welded in the fire, for the triumph of the Church over her enemies?'
'Ah, Father!' said the Queen, 'how should not my heart fail me when I think of the many high spirits who have fallen for my sake? Ay, and when I look out on yonder peaceful vales and happy homesteads, and think of them ravaged by those furious Spaniards and Italians, whom my brother of Anjou himself called very fiends!'
'Fiends are the tools of Divine wrath,' returned Preaux. 'Look at the profaned sanctuaries and outraged convents on which these proud English have waxen fat, and say whether a heavy retribution be not due to them.'
'Ah, father! I may be weak, but I never loved persecution. King Francis and I were dragged to behold the executions at Amboise. That was enough for us. His gentle spirit never recovered it, and I-I see their contorted visages and forms still in my restless nights; and if the Spanish dogs should deal with England as with Haarlem or Antwerp, and all through me!-Oh! I should be happier dying within these walls!'
'Nay, madam, as Queen you would have the reins in your own hand: you could exercise what wholesome severity or well-tempered leniency you chose,' urged the almoner; 'it were ill requiting the favour of the saints who have opened this door to you at last to turn aside now in terror at the phantasy that long weariness of spirit hath conjured up before you.'
So Mary rallied herself, and in five minutes more was as eager in giving her directions to Cicely and to the Curlls as though her heart had not recently failed her.
Cis was to go forth with her chaperons, not by any means enjoying the message to Babington, and yet unable to help being very glad to escape for ever so short a time from the dull prison apartments. There might be no great faith in her powers of diplomacy, but as it was probable that Babington would have more opportunity of conversing with her than with the Curlls, she was charged to attend heedfully to whatever he might say.
Sir Ralf's son-in-law, Mr. Somer, was sent to escort the trio to the hall at the hour of noon; and there, pacing the ample chamber, while the board at the upper end was being laid, were Sir Ralf Sadler and his guest Mr. Babington. Antony was dressed in green velvet slashed with primrose satin, setting off his good mien to the greatest advantage, and he came up with suppressed but rapturous eagerness, bowing low to Mrs. Curll and the secretary, but falling on his knee to kiss the hand of the dark-browed girl. Her recent courtly training made her much less rustically awkward than she would have been a few months before, but she was extremely stiff, and held her head as though her ruff were buckram, as she began her lesson. 'Sir, I am greatly beholden to you for this token, but if it be not sent with the knowledge and consent of my honoured father and mother I may not accept of it.'
'Alas! that you will say so, fair mistress,' said Antony, but he was probably prepared for this rejection, for he did not seem utterly overwhelmed by it.
'The young lady exercises a wise discretion,' said Sir Ralf Sadler to Mrs. Curll. 'If I had known that mine old friend Mr. Talbot of Bridgefield was unfavourable to the suit, I would not have harboured the young spark, but when he brought my Lady Countess's commendation, I thought all was well.'
Barbara Curll had her cue, namely, to occupy Sir Ralf so as to leave the young people to themselves, so she drew him off to tell him in confidence a long and not particularly veracious story of the objections of the Talbots to Antony Babington; whilst her husband engaged the attention of Mr. Somer, and there was a space in which, as Antony took back the watch, he was able to inquire 'Was the egg- shell opened?'
'Ay,' said Cis, blushing furiously and against her will, 'the egg was sucked and replenished.'
'Take consolation,' said Antony, and as some one came near them, 'Duty and discretion shall, I trust, both be satisfied when I next sun myself in the light of those lovely eyes.' Then, as the coast became more clear, 'You are about shortly to move. Chartley is preparing for you.'
'So we are told.'
'There are others preparing,' said Antony, bending over her, holding her hand, and apparently making love to her with all his might. 'Tell me, lady, who hath charge of the Queen's buttery? Is it faithful old Halbert as at Sheffield?'
'It is,' replied Cis.
'Then let him look well at the bottom of each barrel of beer supplied for the use of her household. There is an honest man, a brewer, at Burton, whom Paulett will employ, who will provide that letters be sent to and fro. Gifford and Langston, who are both of these parts, know him well.' Cis started at the name. 'Do you trust Langston then?' she asked.
'Wholly! Why, he is the keenest and ablest of all. Have you not seen him and had speech with him in many strange shapes? He can change his voice, and whine like any beggar wife.'
'Yea,' said Cis, 'but the Queen and Sir Andrew doubted a little if he meant not threats last time we met.'
'All put on-excellent dissembling to beguile the keepers. He told me all,' said Antony, 'and how he had to scare thee and change tone suddenly. Why, he it is who laid this same egg, and will receive it. There is a sworn band, as you know already, who will let her know our plans, and be at her commands through that means. Then, when we have done service approaching to be worthy of her, then it may be that I shall have earned at least a look or sign.'
'Alas! sir,' said Cicely, 'how can I give you false hopes?' For her honest heart burnt to tell the poor fellow that she would in case of his success be farther removed from him than ever.
'What would be false now shall be true then. I will wring love from thee by my deeds for her whom we both alike love, and then wilt thou be mine own, my true Bride!'
By this time other guests had arrived, and the dinner was ready. Babington was, in deference to the Countess, allowed to sit next to his lady-love. She found he had been at Sheffield, and had visited Bridgefield, vainly endeavouring to obtain sanction to his addresses from her adopted parents. He saw how her eyes brightened and heard how her voice quivered with eagerness to hear of what still seemed home to her, and he was pleased to feel himself gratifying her by telling her how Mrs. Talbot looked, and how Brown Dumpling had been turned out in the Park, and Mr. Talbot had taken a new horse, which Ned had insisted on calling 'Fulvius,' from its colour, for Ned was such a scholar that he was to be sent to study at Cambridge. Then he would have wandered off to little Lady Arbell's being put under Master Sniggius's tuition, but Cicely would bring him back to Bridgefield, and to Ned's brothers.
No, the boasted expedition to Spain had not begun yet. Sir Francis Drake was lingering about Plymouth, digging a ditch, it was said, to bring water from Dartmoor. He would never get license to attack King Philip on his own shores. The Queen knew better than to give it. Humfrey and Diccon would get no better sport than robbing a ship or two on the way to the Netherlands. Antony, for his part, could not see that piracy on the high seas was fit work for a gentleman.
'A gentleman loves to serve his queen and country in all places,' said Cicely.
'Ah!' said Antony, with a long breath, as though making a discovery, 'sits the wind in that quarter?'
'Antony,' exclaimed she, in her eagerness calling him by the familiar name of childhood, 'you are in error. I declare most solemnly that it is quite another matter that stands in your way.'
'And you will not tell me wherefore you are thus cruel?'
'I cannot, sir. You will understand in time that what you call cruelty is true kindness.'
This was the gist of the interview. All the rest only repeated it in one form or another; and when Cis returned,
