In Doublet and Hose Part 20

"Never, girl! And thou,--thou must be restrained of thy liberty, for I see that thou knowest much of this matter."

He turned toward the door as he spoke, but Francis was before him.

"My lord," she said, and there was determination in her manner, "thou shalt not touch me, nor cause others to touch me. Heaven be my witness that I speak truth when I say that my father is innocent of design to murder the queen. I must have means to reach him, and thou must give them to me."

"Must? Thou useth strange terms, girl! Not only will I not give thee aid, but I will take thee into custody."

He sprang toward her, but the girl turned upon him fiercely with uplifted dagger.

"Lay but one finger upon me, and I will slay thee," she said in a low intense voice.

"Francis Stafford, this from you?"

"Ay, sir, from me. I would kill thee, or any who sought to hold me from my father. The queen herself should not keep me from him."

"Seditious girl! those are words of treason."

"I care not," cried Francis recklessly. "I care not, my lord. And if thou wilt not give me aid thy life shall pay the forfeit."

"Dost threaten me, girl?"

"Ay! if you deny me. I will slay thee and take thy signet ring."

"If I aid thee, what then?"

"I will tell no word of it to any man," declared she earnestly. "No word, my lord. Thou shalt not be implicated in any manner, as indeed, why should you? I am determined to reach my father, and if to do so I must kill thee, I will do so."

"I believe in thee, Francis. Thy love for him is great. For the sake of that love, and also for that which once I bore him, I will aid thee. Not because of thy threats, girl. They are but talk of an excited brain."

"Nay, my lord; you do me wrong. I would carry them out if it were necessary, albeit I am glad to have gained the end without bloodshed."

"Here is my signet ring, Francis. By that token the boatmen will take thee to London. By that token also thou mayest obtain horses at my house.

Go, girl! Even now thou mayest be too late. As for me, with that ring on thee, 'twill be my undoing, but--take it."

"Say that I stole it, my lord. Say that I forced it from thee," cried Francis, receiving it from him joyfully.

"That thou forced it from me?" echoed Lord Shrope with a laugh. "Why, girl, I had rather be beheaded."

"Then will I leave it at thy house in London when I shall have obtained a horse," said the girl dropping upon one knee by his side. "Forgive me, my lord, for my words," and she kissed his hand with fervor. "Thou hast always been kind to me, but my father, sir. There is naught that I would not do for him."

"Thou art forgiven. But hasten! Time is precious."

Without further parley Francis bounded from the room, and hurried through the palace yard, out of the great gate and down to the steps that led to the river.

Within the yard and at the landing-place there was a great deal of confusion. Servitors were running to and fro, courtiers were grouped together talking excitedly, while numerous officials and dignitaries were taking boat for London. Among these latter the girl discerned the form of Walsingham, the queen's secretary of state. Her heart sank at sight of him.

"He goes to send pursuivants for my father," was her thought, and her conclusion was correct. The secretary was indeed on his way to cause the arrest of the conspirators.

Seeing her among the followers of Walsingham, the watermen permitted her to enter one of the wherries and she found herself being carried to London more expeditiously than would otherwise have been the case. There was no indulgence on the part of the boatmen in song. Stern and silent they bent to their oars, responding with all their mights to Walsingham's "Faster, my men, faster!"

It seemed to Francis that they no sooner reached London than the whole city was ablaze with the news. Traffic was suspended, and citizens discussed in hushed accents the plot to kill the queen.

Francis made haste to Lord Shrope's house in Broad Street, and by means of the ring, procured an excellent horse. Mounting him she urged the animal to great speed and was soon outside the city.

"Heaven grant that I may reach my father before Walsingham's men," she murmured. "I have gotten the start of them somehow. Let me make the most of it."

Now the reason for her advantage was this: several of the conspirators, notably the six who had a.s.sociated together to a.s.sa.s.sinate the queen, were in London awaiting their opportunity. Anthony Babington lodged at Walsingham's own house, lured there by the wily secretary under pretense of taking him into his confidence; while Babington, to further his own ends, seemingly acquiesced in the minister's plans. It was a case of duplicity against duplicity, craft matched against craft, with the odds on the side of Elizabeth's brainy secretary. For the reason that the chief conspirators were in London, Walsingham tarried there to apprehend them before sending forth to arrest the other gentlemen concerned in the plot who lived somewhat remotely from the city. But the conspirators had gotten wind of his intentions, and when he reached the city they had fled.

All this the girl did not know until long afterward. Now she pushed forward with the utmost expedition, hoping to reach the Hall before the pursuivants started. The weather was warm, it being the last of July, and the Hall was two days' journey from London by hard riding. Therefore whatever distance she might gain in the first stage of the trip would be of incalculable advantage.

Toward the end of the day, her horse showing great signs of fatigue, Francis was of necessity forced to allow the animal to settle into a walk. As the steed slackened pace the girl relapsed into thought. So absorbed did she become that she was startled into something closely akin to fright when a man sprang from behind some trees, ran into the road, and seized her horse by the bridle.

At this time the woods and forests of England were infested by highwaymen, gipsies, or Egyptians as they were called, and wandering vagrants whose depredations had been the cause of severe legislation to rid the country of its pests. It had not occurred to Francis that she might be molested by any of these, and she could not forbear a slight scream at the appearance of the man.

His clothing, though of rich material, was torn and ragged as though it had been caught by thorns in the unfrequented paths of the forest. His head was bare of covering, his locks disheveled; his face and hands were of an uneven dark color as though stained with some decoction unskilfully applied. His whole manner was so distraught that Francis trembled excessively.

"Boy," cried the man wildly, "dismount, and give me thy horse."

At the first sound of his voice the girl started violently, leaned forward and scanned his face keenly.

"Anthony Babington," she cried as she recognized the unhappy man, "how came you here?"

"You know me?" cried Babington in dismay. "Who in the fiend's name are you that know me?"

"One that knows all of your nefarious purpose," said Francis accusingly, her girl nature imputing to this man her father's trouble. "Wretched man, knowest thou that the queen's men search for thee even now?"

"Ha!" cried Babington peering into her face, "'tis the page that was with Stafford at Salisbury. Boy, where is thy master?"

"At Stafford Hall."

"And thou! Thou art not with him. Hast thou been at court?" Babington peered suspiciously into her countenance.

"Yes;" answered the unsuspecting girl. "I have been at court, Anthony Babington, where all thy deed is known. The whole palace, ay! the whole city of London is in an uproar because of the discovery of thy intention to kill the queen. I was present when the matter was discovered to the queen. Death will be thy portion if thou art apprehended. Why stand you here? If you would save yourself, fly!"

"Thou present when it was discovered? Then it is thou who hast betrayed us? Varlet! Base brawler of men's secrets! die, ere thou canst betray others."

His dagger flashed in the air as he spoke, but ere it could descend Francis gave him a sharp, stinging cut across the face with her whip.

With a cry of rage Babington let fall the poniard, and before he could regain the weapon the girl dashed away. On she rode, never stopping until at length the night fell, and she knew that she was far from the wretched Babington.

CHAPTER XIX

A SHELTER FROM THE STORM

The morning of the second day found Francis once more on her way without having seen any of the queen's men. The day was unusually warm, and both the girl and her horse, wearied by the hard riding, showed the effects of the journey. But fatigued though she was she pushed resolutely on, pausing only to care for the tired animal. At length the road entered a deep wood and she gave a sigh of relief as the grateful shade of the trees enveloped her. The horse too seemed to revive somewhat and went forward with more briskness.