Hildebrand; or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth, An Historic Romance, Vol. 2 of 3

by Anonymous

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Soon after Queen Elizabeth had entered Greenwich Palace, on theoccasion before described, she parted from her two favourites,Raleigh and Essex, and retired to her boudoir. In a short time,however, she again appeared in the private hall, and there lookedfor those personages among the assembled courtiers. Essex,observing her glance, and conjecturing its object, was by herside in a moment; but Raleigh was nowhere to be seen. Elizabethlooked displeased at his absence; and, as Essex came up, sheinquired if he had seen him.

  “Indeed, no, your Highness,” replied Essex. “But he will be hereanon, no doubt.”

  “I’faith, I fear, not,” said a voice behind him, loud enough tobe heard by the Queen.

  The Queen turned round; and her eye, now marked with displeasure,fell on the face of Sir Robert Cecil.

  “An’ it prove so, and thou art a friend of his, thou mayst fearin right earnest, Sir Knight,” she said. “By God! an’ he be notback shortly, it shall be the worse for him.”

  “Consider me not his friend, then, my gracious liege, an’ heforfeit thy good will,” replied Cecil. “Still,” he added, in ahesitating tone, which seemed to belie what he said, “I scarcecan think he intends your Highness a wilful disrespect.”

  The Queen coloured.

  “I will give my word,” said the Earl of Essex, with much warmth,“he hath no such thought.”

  Unfortunately, however, the circle immediately round the Queen,to which the conversation was confined, included none of SirWalter’s friends, and whispers and looks were interchanged,which far from confirmed the manly and straightforwarddeclaration of Essex. The Queen, whom the bare appearance of aslight exasperated, was easily led into the general impression,and it became evident that Sir Walter was no longer to be lookedupon as one of her chief favourites.

  “Thou must know where he is,” she said to Cecil, somewhatsharply, “or how couldst thou fear, as thou didst but latelyprofess, he would not attend us shortly?”

  “Good sooth, my liege, I spoke on mere conjecture,” said Cecil.“When he betook him hence, I marked that he looked marvellouslyimpatient; and as his step was hasty withal, I doubted not, in myown mind, that he was taken away by some grave business, whichcould be despatched only at leisure.”

  “By my troth, thou art right prompt at conjecture,” remarked theQueen, sneeringly. “A good fellow, I warrant you, to back out afriend. But go and seek out Sir Walter Raleigh, and let us hearwhat this grave business is.”

  Cecil, though taken somewhat aback, replied with a bow, andinstantly proceeded to give the Queen’s injunctions effect.Shambling along at his quickest pace, he came to the centralhall; and though, having failed to watch his route, he knew notwhat direction had been pursued by Sir Walter, passed straight tothe park.

  As he stepped into the nearest walk, he observed Sir Walter,with his hat pulled over his brow, some distance ahead, strikingoff towards Blackheath. Wondering what he could possibly havein view, he determined, instead of calling him back, to stealsecretly after him, and, if possible, ascertain his purpose.

  He pursued his intention for several minutes, when Sir Walter,suddenly turning round, became sensible that he was followed, andstruck off in another direction. Still, however, Cecil kept himin view, and at length, after a diligent and arduous pursuit,fairly traced him to the avenue to Blackheath.

  A few brief minutes served to discover the object of hisexcursion. A lady--no other, indeed, than Evaline de Neville--wasstanding near the end of the avenue; and on reaching thatlocality, Sir Walter accosted her, and made it apparent that shewas waiting there for him. Sir Robert Cecil watched them for ashort space, when, with a glavering smile, he turned away, andpassed back to the palace.

  On entering the royal presence, he found the courtiers dispersedover the hall, and the circle round the Queen, which he had leftpretty full, greatly diminished. Elizabeth, though still somewhatdiscomposed, was talking apart with Essex; and the four or fiveladies around her had fallen a few paces back, and with manysmiles, and tossings of the head, and other significant gestures,discussed the scandal of the day together. Silently noting theseparticulars, Sir Robert Cecil, fearful of being thought anintruder, approached with great circumspection, and, while hewas yet some paces distant, _hemmed_ several times to attract theQueen’s notice. It was not till he was close at hand, however,that that personage thought fit to observe him.

  “Well, Sir!” she then cried, in an abrupt tone, “where is thymarauding friend?”

  “Most gracious liege, an’ thou mean’st Sir Walter Raleigh,”replied Cecil, fawningly, “I give thee my word, that, were hemine own brother, he should not hold my regard when he had lostthine. God forefend I should ever lack in duty to your Highness,who hath loaded me and mine, of thine own free and unsolicitedwill, with thy most precious bounty.”

  “Nay, nay, I question not thee, gentle Cecil,” rejoined theQueen, with more kindness. “There be few I deem so loyal, or holdin equal respect.”

  “Oh, thanks! thanks, most dread sovereign!” answered Cecil, withwell-feigned emotion. “An’ I could tell how thou hast movedme, I would make thy most piteous and compassionate heart torun distract. But no tongue, unless it were thine own, whoseeloquence passes man’s, and ravishes while it commands, couldgive utterance to my most hearty sentiments. Indeed, my LordEssex, that was a right apt conceit of thine, which likened herGrace’s voice to the song of Philomel.”

  “By my word, now, ’twas beggarly,” said the Earl of Essex,earnestly. “’Twas likening the meridian sun to a mere star.”

  “Go to, thou flatterer!” exclaimed the Queen, laughing. “Theconceit was a right good one. But what keeps this recreantknight, gentle Cecil?”

  Cecil hesitated.

  “Soh!” said the Queen, with revived displeasure. And rising fromher seat, she stepped a pace or two forward (so that, if theyspoke in a low tone, their conversation could not be heard bythose around), and whispered Cecil apart.

  “What holds him away?” she said.

  “Only the great duty I owe your Highness could ever make me say,”replied Cecil, falteringly. “In obedience to your Grace’s orders,I followed him to the Park; and there, in a retired spot, Ibeheld him in earnest converse with a lady.”

  “Aha!” muttered Elizabeth. “By my father’s hand, he shall answerfor ’t! Wait thee here a space!”

  With this injunction, she turned away, and fell back to the Earlof Essex.

  “Essex, give thee a good night!” she said, extending him her hand.

  The young Earl, with the eagerness of a lover, caught up herproffered hand, and, dropping on one knee, raised it respectfullyto his lips. As he did so, his graceful bearing, and manly andhandsome countenance, beaming with expression, appeared to newadvantage, and presented additional charms. While she glancedhastily over him, Elizabeth, though in no tender mood, deigned tosmile; but, whatever were her feelings, she broke away directly.

  “Ho, there!” she cried to her ladies; “we will away!”

  The bevy of beauties gathered round her in a moment; thehall-door, leading to the private apartments of the palace, wasthrown open; and, attended by her train, the Queen passed to herchamber.

  Her retirement was the signal for the whole court to taketheir departure. Essex and Cecil, however, though with nocommon object, remained behind, and manifested no intention ofimmediately retiring.

  Though the Queen had passed out of sight, and the door by whichshe had made her egress, in the manner and order described, wasnow closed, the eyes of Essex were still turned in the directionshe had taken, and seemed to look for or behold her in theunbroken vacuity. But he did not gaze thus for any protractedperiod. After a short interval, he dropped his gaze, and turnedto retire. He was stepping forward with this view, when, raisinghis eyes again, he encountered those of Sir Robert Cecil.That person, with whatever motive, had been watching him fromthe first, and now looked him straight in the face. But thefamiliarity which he seemed to assume, and which was marked verystriking
ly in his penetrating gaze, drew from the proud Earl noapparent response; for, instead of pausing, he dropped his glanceon the instant, and passed straight on.

  Cecil bit his lips; but his self-possession, if disturbed, wasnot seriously affected, and he recovered himself immediately.

  “My Lord Essex, I would speak with thee a space,” he said, in anobsequious tone.

  “Be brief, then,” answered Essex, still passing forward, thoughmore slowly; “for I would be gone.”

  “Nay, ’tis no great matter, my fair Lord,” observed Cecil, withaffected indifference. “’Twas but to give thee a warning.”

  Essex paused. “And what may it be?” he asked.

  “I will tell thee more anon,” he said. “Now, my Lord, I wouldsimply counsel thee to beware of Sir Walter Raleigh.”

  “And wherefore of him?” demanded Essex. “I know not that I havein aught offended him.”

  “Oh, dost thou not?” returned the crafty courtier. “Art not hisrival, then? Has he not in thee, and thy good parts, which men doso worthily admire, an obstacle to her Grace’s favour? Trust me,he hates thee, my good Lord!”

  “I can well believe he bears me no good will,” answered the Earl.“Howbeit, I care not for him, or any other, though, to speaksooth, I want the enmity of no man. Let that, with more right andjustice, fall to time-servers and knaves.”

  So speaking, the haughty young nobleman, without raising hiscap, dropped him a proud nod, and passed on his way. Before hereached the lower outlet from the hall, the door at the upperend, leading to the apartments of the Queen, was thrown open, anda lady appeared on the threshold.

  “Hither, Sir Robert Cecil!” she said.

  Cecil, though somewhat disconcerted at the altered demeanour ofEssex, quickly composed himself, and answered her call with theliveliest promptitude. On his coming up with her, the lady, withsome appearance of agitation, presented him with a sealed billet,addressed to Sir Walter Raleigh; and the alert eyes of Cecilreadily observed that it was in the handwriting of the Queen.

  “Her Highness,” said the lady, “charged me to bring thee thisbillet, which thou art to convey to Sir Walter Raleigh, througha pursuivant, without loss of time. I fear me,” she added, in atone of sympathy, “it bodes the noble gentleman no good.”

  Sir Robert gave a mournful shake of his head.

  “Dost know how he hath displeased her, Sir Robert?” pursued thelady.

  “Faith, no, my Lady Nottingham!” answered Cecil. “It grievesme sorely. But, whatever come of it, I must even do her Grace’serrand; and so, I heartily wish your Ladyship god-den.”

  “God-den to you, Sir!” replied the Countess of Nottingham.

  Thus returning his valediction, she passed to the inner chamberagain; and Sir Robert, without further delay, bent his steps tothe lower hall. There, after a little time, which it required allhis discretion to endure patiently, he procured a pursuivant;and, in obedience to the injunctions he had received, charged himwith the delivery of the Queen’s letter. Having informed him thathe would probably meet with Sir Walter in the park, he directedhim, when he had delivered the letter, to come back to him, inthe apartment called “the Hall of Virgins,” and privately let himknow where Sir Walter was to be found. With these instructions,he parted from the pursuivant, and repaired to the apartmentwherein, according to their arrangement, he was to await hisreturn.

  Some time elapsed before the pursuivant re-appeared. But, thoughthe interval was a long one, he returned at last, and brieflyfurnished Cecil with the information he required.

  “I have presented Sir Walter with the letter, your worship,”he said. “I would have returned straight; but he bade me, as afavour, to order his barge, and I could not cry him nay. He hathsince gone off to London.”

  Cecil, being desirous of an early interview with Sir Walter,was somewhat disappointed by this intelligence; but he did notsuffer his chagrin to reveal itself. Dismissing the pursuivant,he determined, as he could not see him that night, to visit SirWalter early in the morning; and thus resolved, he quietly tookhis departure.

  The following morning found him an early visiter at the door ofDurham House. The noble proprietor of that mansion, however, hadbeen astir for several hours, and was now busily engaged in thevarious employments of his study. He sat at a long table, in themiddle of the room, with his face, which rested on one of hishands, turned towards the window, and his back towards the door.On the table, within reach of his hand, were divers papers andbooks, and one volume lying open, which, on a close view, provedto be a collection of the plays of Shakspear. The open pagepresented, on one side, the faint trace of a pencil, marking somereader’s admiration of the following passage:--

  “Oh, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes’ favours! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars and women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.”

  The pencil-mark might have been made by Sir Walter himself;but, whether it had been, or not, that personage was not nowmeditating, under the prompture of his own experience, on itshigh and incontrovertible philosophy. Before him was spread alarge chart, representing, in rude but accurate outlines, thecontinent of North America; and on this he seemed to bend hisundivided attention.

  Ever and anon, as his eye fixed itself on some more strikingpoint of the broken shore, indicating a safe bay, or favourablecommercial situation, he raised his pen, and, by a slight tick,marked it as the site of a future settlement. Gradually, breakingaway from the shore, he moved his pen inland, and, after adeliberate pause, traced on the centre of the chart, in boldcharacters, these magic words:--

  =_El Dorado._=

  As he thus fixed the site of his imagined Canaan, a smile rose tothe lips of the philosopher, and seemed, on a cursory glance, toshed a sort of light over his every feature. There was, however,whether from intense thought, or secret anxiety, still a touchof melancholy on his brow; and it shortly spread itself further,and became, what it was in the first instance, the dominantexpression of his countenance. Nevertheless, he continued tobend over the chart, and would, perhaps, ultimately have resumedthe employment he had been engaged in; but, while he yet paused,a slight knock on the chamber-door brought his meditation to aclose.

  “Enter!” he cried, turning towards the door.

  He had hardly turned round, when the door was pushed open, and aservant, attired in a plain but tasteful livery, the colours ofhis household, entered the chamber.

  “Sir Robert Cecil would speak a while with your worship,” saidthe lackey.

  It is often imagined, that, in the hour of adversity, a visitfrom one whom we consider a friend, unsolicited by ourselves, isamong the most welcome things that we would aspire to. But letthe cold hand of misfortune only seize us; and, in this conceivedrelief, the proud heart, which sorrow could not subdue, willbe most effectually humbled. It has to own its fair prospectsblighted; it has to acknowledge, in its own degradation, thesuperiority of its consoler; it has to smart under his inquiries,and writhe under his expressions of pity. What torture!--whatexcruciating torment! To be recommended, in our low estate, totake another path, to confess that we have failed--that ourbest efforts, our mightiest energies, our long suffering, ourglorious and surpassing struggles, which embraced our everythought, hope, and wish, and the bare memory of which makes useven to commiserate our own selves--to confess that all thesehave been thrown away, that we have been poor, lost, thoughtlessdreamers--oh! this is the very bound and extreme of human anguish!

  Yet Sir Walter could endure the trial. He knew that, in hiscourse upward, the man who seeks an uncommon fortune, must meetand surmount uncommon difficulties; and though acutely sensibleto the bitter influences referred to, he was manned for theordeal. Keenly as he felt every mortification, how utterlypointless and contemptible, on reflection, did the disdainfulslights and opinions of the world appear to him! The gallingsnee
r of envy, the cutting look of pride, or the thoughtlessinquisitiveness of pity, itself an affront, might affect him atthe moment; but how soon did his heart recover its dignity, andhis mind its evenness! He felt the pang, but he did not shrinkfrom its minister; and in the nobleness of his own feelings, andthe purity of his motives, he found a most soothing consolation.

  On the present occasion, he paused a space before he replied tothe servant’s announcement. His hesitation, however, was butmomentary, and he then directed him to bring Sir Robert Cecil tohis presence.

  The servant, with a dutiful bow, proceeded to obey him, andshortly introduced Sir Robert to the study. He thereupon retired,and left the two courtiers, whose characters were so widelydifferent, and so opposed to each other, to themselves.

  There was a thoughtful melancholy on Cecil’s brow, whether realor assumed, that at once informed Sir Walter that his fall in theroyal favour was known to that person. This was a relief; andthough Sir Robert, on the whole, had no great hold of his esteem,he was rather cheered than otherwise by the sympathy expressed inhis countenance. A mere glance served him to survey Sir Robert’saspect; and by the time that the servant, on his way out, hadclosed the door behind him, and left them to themselves, he wasprepared to accost him.

  “Give thee a fair morning, Sir Robert!” he cried. “Thou art withme betimes; and yet, by my lady’s hand, I scarce looked for anyvisiters to-day!”

  “An’ that were thy thought, thou didst wrong to me, at the least,Sir Walter Raleigh,” answered Cecil, with much earnestness. “’Tisnot in thy reverses that I would forsake thee.”

  “Kind! kind! more than I looked for, worthy Sir Robert,” answeredRaleigh; “for, I see, by thy sad face, thou art advertised of mydownfall!”

  “Nay, call it not that!” rejoined Cecil. “Albeit thou art accusedof a grave excess, I heartily hope, when the Queen’s angerabates, she will overlook it.”

  “Grave excess!” exclaimed Sir Walter. “Dost know what I amcharged withal, then?”

  “I’faith, I have heard, though I vouch not how truly, thou artaccused of leaving thy duties at the palace, as captain of herHighness’s guard, to loiter with some dame in the park,” answeredCecil. “Nay, I know not an’ it be so, but I am thus advised.”

  “’Tis most like,” returned Sir Walter; “for, of a surety, Idid visit the park last even, after her Highness had retired,purposely to meet a fair lady.”

  Cecil bit his lips, and meditated a moment.

  “Wilt thou own this to her Highness?” he said, at length.

  “Will I?” cried Sir Walter: “without question, I will!”

  “Then is thy case hopeless!” said Cecil, turning away.

  “Hold!” exclaimed Sir Walter. “Hast thou a mind to serve me inthe matter?”

  “By my faith, I have!” answered Cecil, solemnly.

  “Then, at thy speediest convenience, get me leave from herHighness to see her privily,” returned Sir Walter. “An’ sherefuse thine urgent entreaty, do thou”--here he thrust his handinto his vest, and drew forth a sealed letter--“then give herthis billet, and say, with my humble prayers, and reverend love,I lay it at her feet.”

  “That will I,” answered Sir Robert, accepting the letter. “HerHighness, if I be advised truly, hath by this time returned toWestminster, and I will seek her ear straightway. I would havehad more heart for the business, though, an’ thou hadst not givensuch offence to my Lord Essex.”

  “I offended him?” cried Raleigh. “What mean’st thou?”

  “Hast thou, in plain verity, done him no wrong, then?” inquiredCecil. “This is most strange! But I have thy word for secrecy?”

  “Without question!” answered Sir Walter.

  “Then, believe me, worthy Sir Walter,” pursued Cecil, “Essex isthine enemy.”

  Sir Walter turned pale. “Now, afore God!” he exclaimed, “I havenever given his Lordship a shade of cause! I have ever held himin good report, and thought him, above most men, noble, honest,and true.”

  “Well, he hates thee!” resumed Cecil. “But look cheerful on’t,nevertheless. I will seek her Highness out of hand.”

  Sir Walter expressed his acknowledgments of his kindness, and,at the same time, revealed his love for the Queen, to whomhis mission was addressed, in many flattering and dutifulexpressions. Cecil readily caught at these, though seeminglyinattentive, as calculated to win him the Queen’s favour, andafter a while, having heard Sir Walter out, took his leave, andset forth for the palace.

  He was really earnest in the interest he professed in SirWalter’s behalf. He saw now, after a trial, that he would beunable to play upon Essex as he had imagined; and that, infact, Essex was more likely to play upon _him_. Under thesecircumstances, he conceived that it would be advisable toattract the Queen’s favour to Raleigh again; and if he couldany way compass this, he would be able, in building his ownfortune, to counteract the overbearing pride of the one, in thefriendly aid of the other. The seeds of dissension which he hadsown between them, by reporting them to each other as enemies,would prevent their ever coming to an explanation; and in thedivision of their interests, he would find means and opportunityto advance himself.

  Full of these speculations, the crafty double-dealer reached thepalace. The Queen, he found, had already arrived thither, and wasnow in one of the private chambers of the palace. Having sent toher to desire an interview, she ordered him to be admitted, andhe was thereupon conducted to her presence.

  The Queen was alone; and, to judge from the expression of hercountenance, in a humour not unfavourable to the design he had inhand. She even smiled as he bent his knee before her, and, in agentle tone, ordered him to rise.

  “Still must I kneel, most gracious liege,” answered Cecil; “forI come as a suppliant from one who, could he but see thee, wouldkneel here for ever, unless thou wouldst grant him thy royalpardon.”

  “Ah!” cried the Queen. “What offence hath thy client committed?”

  “He hath sworn by thy hand, which he holds an inviolable oath,that he hath done none wilfully, my liege,” replied Cecil. “Ingood sooth, he swore to ’t so movingly, ’twas quite piteous tohear him.”

  “Prithee, who may he be?” inquired the Queen.

  “Sir Walter Raleigh, your Highness,” said Cecil, hesitatingly.

  “How now, sirrah?” cried the Queen, rising, with her eyesflashing with anger. “What assurance hast thou of my forbearance,that thus thou darest to plead for him?”

  “The frown of your Highness bows me to the earth,” answeredCecil, dropping his gaze to the floor, and really feeling verygreat terror. “Indeed, indeed, my liege, I had determined to casthim utterly from me, but when I heard his right eloquent tongue,which certainly hath few peers, discourse of your Highness’scaptivating charms--of your admirable learning, politics, piety,and matchless goodness, my heart warmed to him in despite of me,and, from being his enemy, I became his friend.”

  “Well, well, I pardon thee for once,” said the Queen; “but speakof him no more. Certes, he hath as winning a discourse as I haveever heard.”

  “To hear him,” observed Cecil, with more confidence, “likeningyour Highness in authority to Semiramis, in resolution toZenobia, in piety to Helena, and in beauty to Cleopatra. In goodfaith, ’twas moving!”

  “Did he do this?” asked the Queen, in a low voice.

  “With more earnestness than I can speak of, my liege,” repliedCecil. “But when he did enlarge on your Highness’s bountifuldisposition, and, with piteous sighs, set forth how many greatthings your Highness had done for his poor self--saying, ’twasshe gained me this, or ’twas her raised me to that, and ’twas herroyal hand (and thereat he would look so grievously sorrowful)that presented me with such a thing; and, withal, deliveringhimself with such admirable tenderness--i’faith, mine eyes werealmost moved to tears.”

  The Queen made no reply for a brief space. “By my troth,” shesaid, at length, “I can well believe thee. But I will notpardon him. No--not a jot! Still, an’ thou
likest, on thine ownconjecture, to tell him not to be of desperate mind, thou mayst.”

  “Knowing the royal nature of your Highness, I will even advisehim so,” answered Cecil. “But if thou wouldst suffer me, as’twere without thy privity, to place him behind some screen, where,unseen by thee, he might behold thee pass by, and so once moreview thy face, ’twould be more comfortable to his poor heartthan aught that can be said by me.”

  “By my troth, thou movest me!” returned the Queen. “But I willnot pardon him! He knoweth a mode may persuade me, though.Counsel him to think on’t.”

  “I will, my liege,” replied Cecil; “but before I go, I wouldhumbly sue your Highness, in your great goodness, to accept thispoor billet, which he charged me, with many protestations oflove, to lay at your Highness’s feet.”

  The Queen, though evidently no way displeased, hesitated amoment, and then accepted the proffered letter. Her eyesbrightened, as, with a careful hand, she drew it open, and foundwithin a small gold ring.

  “What request did he bid thee make of me?” she asked, looking up.

  “That thou wouldst be pleased to see him privily, my liege,”answered Cecil.

  “Let him attend me out of hand,” returned the Queen. “No morenow; but hie to him at once!”

  Sir Robert, pleased beyond measure, did not linger on his errand,but took a hasty leave of the Queen, and departed. Walking ata quick pace, he soon arrived at Durham House, and, on gainingadmittance, was immediately conducted to the presence of Raleigh.

  That personage received him with an unaffected welcome. Hisaccount of his interview with the Queen, and its result, whichwas so much more favourable than he had anticipated, afforded SirWalter the highest gratification; and he prepared to embrace theadvantage it held out without delay.

  Nevertheless, nearly half an hour elapsed before he was fullyequipped for his meditated visit to the court. When he had oncefulfilled his toilet, however, he made no pause; but, accompaniedby Cecil, set out for the palace.

  On their arrival at that structure, they found that the Queenwas on the point of attending a council; but, though the momentseemed unfavourable, Sir Walter determined, for all this, toseek an audience on the instant. His pursuit of that objectwas successful; and, leaving Cecil in the hall, he was shortlyushered to the royal presence.

  The Queen was still alone; but her brow, under the shadow of alight gold crown, which she had donned to attend the council,no longer looked kindly, but rather cold and severe. Sir Walterapproached her in silence, and, on drawing nigh her chair, threwhimself at her feet.

  Nearly a minute elapsed before the Queen spoke; but, in the meantime, her eyes, which were remarkably penetrating, ran over thecavalier with a glance of displeasure. Sir Walter, however, kepthis eyes on the floor, and never looked up once.

  “By my father’s head,” cried the Queen, at length, “I have aright good mind to drive thee hence again! What can palliate thygross perjury? Knowest thou aught, in the conception of mortalwit, that can afford thee a reasonable excuse?”

  Sir Walter was silent.

  “Ay, think it over and over,” resumed the Queen, angrily; “andmark if thy subtlety frame a sufficient plea! Yet do I not blamethee, after all, so much as the hussey by whom thou wast decoyed.By the Lord, ’twere better for her, in this instance, that shehad never seen a man. Which of my women was it?”

  “My gracious liege,” said Raleigh, in a soft voice, “I were atraitor to profess, as I might, that I know not whereof I amcharged withal; for Sir Robert Cecil hath advised me on’t atfull. Nevertheless, I do solemnly protest, by thy fair hand, andmine own honour, ’tis utterly without ground.”

  “How?” cried the Queen, starting up. “Wilt thou dare to tell me alie?”

  “Now, God forefend, dread sovereign!” said Sir Walter, his cheeksmantling with a deep flush. “’Tis true, I met a lady in the parklast even; but, by all I regard sacred, she was no mistress ofmine, nor any lady of the court. She was simply a poor friend--apoor, defenceless maid, who sought me with a suit to yourHighness.”

  “Ah!” exclaimed the Queen.

  “’Twas even so, your Highness,” answered Raleigh: “a maid (let mespeak in pure sooth) whom I would perish rather than wrong.”

  “Rise, Sir!” said the Queen; “we pardon thee! Let us hear thismaiden’s suit.”

  Sir Walter, re-assured by the Queen’s tone, entered on the taskenjoined him with hearty good will; and, without concealing oneparticular, set forth how he had first become acquainted withEvaline de Neville, how her father had been arrested on a chargeof murder, how Hildebrand Clifford, the captain of his expeditionto America, had convinced him of Sir Edgar’s innocence, and howthat person was now confined in Newgate. As he proceeded with hisnarrative, he expatiated at length, and in terms of the highestcommendation, on the beauty, virtue, and modesty of Evaline, andshowed how her affection for her father had induced her to sharehis prison at Exeter, and had since brought her to London. Inconclusion, he implored the Queen, in consideration of her raremerits, to interfere personally in her behalf, and take her underher special protection.

  “We will see to ’t,” answered the Queen, in a gracious tone. “Thecouncil will be sitting anon; and I will then, if occasion serve,have the matter diligently investigated. Now, see who waitswithout!”

  Sir Walter, with a dutiful bow, turned quickly to thechamber-door, and drew it open. An officer was waiting without,with two ushers; and, supposing the Queen would speak with them,Sir Walter beckoned them forward.

  “Sir Ferdinand Georges is here, your Highness,” he said, turningto the Queen.

  Sir Ferdinand, who was the officer referred to, entered at thismoment.

  “The council awaits your Highness,” he said.

  “We will attend it,” replied the Queen. “Ho, Sir Knight!” sheadded to Raleigh, “give me thine arm!”

  Thus speaking, she placed her arm on that of Raleigh; and,followed by Sir Ferdinand and the two ushers, passed to thecouncil-chamber.

  On arriving at the door of that apartment, she paused, andwithdrew her arm from that of Raleigh.

  “Wait thou here a while,” she said. “Thou mayst be called foranon.”

  Raleigh, catching her hand as it fell, dropped on one knee, and,bowing his head, raised her hand to his lips. The Queen smiled,and, without more ado, passed into the council-chamber.

  Like Raleigh, Sir Ferdinand Georges and the two ushers, bywhom she had been escorted thither, remained without, waitingher return. On her entry into the chamber, however, the twoushers fell back a few paces, and only Sir Walter and SirFerdinand stood near the door. Thus left to themselves, those twocavaliers, who evidently were no way ill-disposed to each other,were able to enter into discourse, and they availed themselves ofthe opportunity forthwith.

  Nearly an hour elapsed before their conversation sustained anyinterruption. At the end of that time, however, the door behindthem was pushed open, and Raleigh was summoned to appear beforethe council.

  It was a bar that might have daunted even a more resolute mind;but Raleigh presented himself before it, in obedience to itssummons, with a countenance and heart perfectly undisturbed.There were, notwithstanding, several sitting round, on the rightof the Queen, whom he knew to be his enemies, and several whomhe believed to bear him no great good will. Among the first, theEarl of Leicester, sitting on the Queen’s right hand, was theprincipal; and in the latter class he included Burleigh andWalsingham. To counterbalance the enmity or ill will of these,however, the venerable faces of Knollys, Egerton, Sussex, andthe Lord Justice Popham, with the not unkindly brow of SecretaryHerbert, assured him of favour and support. Moreover, the Queenherself, as if to inspire him with confidence, smiled on him ashe entered; and, in that one smile, he had a tower of strengthand hope.

  A slight pause followed his entry, when the Earl of Leicester,turning towards the Queen, broke the silence.

  “Your Highness,” he said, “hath been pleased to order Sir WalterRaleigh hither, in order that he
may himself deliver, in his ownwords, what he hath already reported to you. I do profess, as thematter hath been said to involve a new Popish plot, that I holdit should be inquired into with the utmost diligence.”

  “I am so minded myself,” answered the Queen. “Advise us whatthou know’st of the business, Sir Walter.”

  Thus addressed, Raleigh proceeded, in a low but distinct tone,to narrate the several particulars exculpatory of Sir Edgar deNeville, in reference to the charge he had been arrested on,which he had already made known to the Queen. As his narrativeprogressed, he remarked that Lord Burleigh paid especialattention, above that awarded by the other councillors, toits various details; and he was at a loss to conjecture whathis marked notice might lead to. Nevertheless, he was no wayembarrassed, and he brought his account to a close without oncehesitating.

  “A passing strange tale, by my faith!” said Lord Leicester,sneeringly, when his narrative was finished. “I marvel, SirWalter Raleigh, ’twould ever win an advocate in thee.”

  “’Tis anent all reason,” said Sir Francis Walsingham.

  “Methinks, fair gentlemen, these argue more for its thoroughinvestigation,” remarked the Earl of Sussex. “I will even avow,on my part, that, if it win credit from Sir Walter Raleigh, itwill be credited by me.”

  “Certes, the word of so loyal a gentleman deserves a fairinquiry,” observed the Queen, with a frown. “What sayst thou toit, my Lord Burleigh?”

  “That the statement of Sir Walter Raleigh is true, my liege,”answered Burleigh.

  The Queen looked surprised, and the councillors, on either sideof the table, and Sir Walter Raleigh, also, turned a glance ofinquiry on his venerable face.

  “It is even so, my liege,” resumed Burleigh, after a pause. “Asimilar account, wherein fair mention was made of Sir Walter,was rendered me yesterday, by a person of high trust; and I hadpurposed to have reported it to your Highness to-day. Howbeit,when Sir Walter was summoned hither, methought I would firsthear his testimony, and then leave it for the judgment of yourHighness.”

  “Enough, my Lord,” answered the Queen. “Let the prisoner bereleased incontinently. And my Lord Leicester,” she added, with afrown, “I may ask thee, in the words of Master Shakspear, ‘wherebe your gibes now?’ Go to! Thy counsel grows dull.”

  With these cutting words, the Queen arose, and, bowing to thecouncil, extended her arm to Sir Walter Raleigh. That personage,ever on the alert, attended her promptly, and, with her arm drawnthrough his, conducted her from the chamber.

  Leicester sat still for a while, as if he were perfectlystupified. Then, resuming all his natural haughtiness, heabruptly rose, and passed out of the chamber. He never entered itagain!

  The council seemed to be taken by surprise at the final fall ofthe once powerful favourite. Their surprise, however, was butmomentary; and when he was no longer in view, all thought of himor his fate appeared to have subsided.

  “Hast thou made out the warrant, Sir Francis, for Sir Edgarde Neville’s release?” asked Burleigh of Walsingham, at thisjuncture.

  “I have, my Lord,” answered Walsingham.

  “Trust its delivery to me, then, worthy Sir Francis,” returnedBurleigh. “I will see to it myself.”

  Sir Francis, facetiously bidding him to make good speed, handedhim the warrant; and the gouty premier then arose. His rising wasthe signal for the council to break up.