"Why, boy, "tis the custom of the court to take all that one can get,"
cried Sir Walter who was noted for that very thing. "Hast thou no favor to ask? No desire of thine inmost heart?"
"Oh," cried the girl as a thought darted into her mind, looking at him timidly, "if I might be beholden to you for one favor. If thou wouldst, Sir Walter----" she paused.
"Speak on, lad," said Raleigh kindly. "Thou are not the first to prefer request for service. In truth thou wouldst be a rara avis shouldst thou not demand something. There lives no man, nor woman, nor child at the court who hath not his own end to further. Therefore speak and say what I shall give thee."
"Sir Walter," said Francis emboldened by his words, "thou art a great swordsman and noted for thy skill in the use of that weapon. Impart to me that knowledge, I beseech you."
"Is that thy wish?" cried Sir Walter in amazement. "Right willingly will I teach thee, for I perceive that thou art a lad of parts. "Tis an art that is more excellent than any other military exercise, because there is very great and general use thereof. Not only in general wars, but also in particular combats. Seek me anon, and I will soon make thee a master of the sword."
With a dazzling smile he left her. Francis repaired to the courtyard to await the coming of the queen and her maidens.
The royal barge, manned by watermen attired in regal liveries, lay at the foot of the great stairs which ascended from the river. The yeomen of the guard in scarlet jerkins with halberds in their hands, guarded the pa.s.sage from the palace to the waterside. Presently the ushers issued from the mansion, flanked by a band of gentlemen pensioners. After this, amidst a crowd of ladies and gentlemen, came Elizabeth herself.
Sir Walter Raleigh walked by the queen, but, as if pushed back from his position by the press of people who crowded to see her, he dropped slightly to the rear. As the ladies went gaily by, laughing and talking, he let fall his gauntlet just in front of a beautiful girl. Recovering the glove as Elizabeth looked about inquiringly for him he resumed his place by her side. He was in high favor at this time, and consequently obliged to be in constant attendance upon her.
Francis looked attentively at the lady so indicated and followed the maids as un.o.btrusively as possible to the boats. The young ladies of honor were to be in a boat by themselves with two older ladies for chaperons. As soon as the girl perceived this she pushed forward boldly, and, with true page-like officiousness, proffered her services to the beautiful Elizabeth Throckmorton.
"I have a page of mine own in attendance, young sir," said the lady with a smile. "Nathless I thank you for your courtesy."
"Fair lady," said Francis in a low tone, "hast ever heard of Hermes?"
"He was the messenger of the G.o.ds, sir," returned she in surprise.
"Why?"
"Because I am he," returned the supposed page with a bow. "Albeit I come not from the G.o.ds. "Twas Eros who sent me, therefore, I beseech you to permit me to hand you to the boat."
With a laugh and a deep blush Mistress Throckmorton extended her hand, and Francis led her to the barge, leaving the missive of Sir Walter in the maiden"s soft palm.
Later in the day, receiving a summons from Raleigh she hastened to him and reported the success of her mission. "Gramercy, boy! thou wert most gallant in the delivery," laughed Sir Walter. "And now for thy first lesson with the sword." And soon the two were deep in the mysteries of fencing.
"Every man should be master of this weapon," declared the sailor when Francis, exhausted by the swift play of the blades, sank down for a few moments" rest. "Even though one be small of stature and weak of strength, dexterity with the sword may make him master of a much larger adversary.
I could tell thee tales, lad, as would make thy hair to rise of the way I have seen the sword used. Have to, boy! I have but little more time to give thee. Thou art an apt scholar! So! that was a good parry. A little removing of the foot, a sudden turning of the hands, a slight declining of the body, and thine opponent is at thy mercy. So, lad, so!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: _THE TWO WERE DEEP IN THE MYSTERIES OF FENCING_]
The fencing lesson was repeated the next day. Francis no longer dreaded the meeting with Edward Devereaux, and when the night fell, she stole away to the dueling place confident that she would be the victor in the affair.
There was no one at the wicket of the western gate, and she sat down to await the coming of her adversary with impatience. The broad yellow beams of the full moon lighted up the open s.p.a.ces of the park with a brightness as if the sun had just set while the shadows under the trees were darker and heavier by contrast. Numerous statues gleamed in the pale light like ghosts newly risen from their sepulchres. Fountains threw jets of water into the air, caught the moonbeams, and fell again into their basins in showers of molten silver. A light breeze ruffled the leaves and came with refreshing coolness after the sultriness of the day. All was still save for the music of the night bird of song. The beauty of the scene, the melody of the nightingales, oppressed Francis with a sense of melancholy.
"Am I doing aright," she said aloud. "Surely I could do naught else unless I betrayed my s.e.x. Now the matter hath gone so far that I must bear myself as if I were in sooth a boy. But I will not kill the lad.
Only make him acknowledge my skill with the deer. I would that he would come. I know not why, but I feel my courage departing from me in the loneliness of the night."
At this instant, as if in answer to her wish, there was the sound of hurried footsteps, and soon the form of Edward Devereaux appeared among the trees.
"I crave thy pardon, Master Stafford," he cried, "if I have kept thee waiting. Sir Christopher Hatton detained me, and I could not come sooner.
Draw and defend thyself."
He drew his own sword as he spoke and threw himself on guard. Without one word of reply Francis placed herself on the defensive. And then began a curious scene. Parry, thrust and parry--the steel rattled, and the strange duel was on. The nightingales ceased their singing as if amazed at the folly of the human things. The only sound that fell upon the air besides the clash of the blades was the labored breathing of the contestants. Francis" new-found knowledge stood her well in hand, and she pressed her opponent furiously. Suddenly she made a false step----
"A hit! a hit!" cried Edward Devereaux.
As the rapier entered her right arm the weakness of her s.e.x overcame the girl. She uttered a faint cry, and, for the first time in her life, fell in a dead faint.
CHAPTER XV
THE STRANGE WEAKNESS OF FRANCIS STAFFORD
When Francis recovered consciousness she found Edward Devereaux bending over her with the utmost concern.
"You live," he cried joyfully as she opened her eyes. "Now Heaven be praised! Methought that I had killed thee, Master Stafford."
"Methought that it was to be a tilt a l"outrance," said Francis trying to rise. "Oh," she moaned sinking back as dizziness again a.s.sailed her. "I know not why but I am so weak. Bethink you that I am dying, Master Devereaux?"
"I understand it not," returned the lad much perturbed. "The wound is naught. See! I slashed the sleeve of thy doublet and examined it. The cut should tingle and smart as all such do when green, but there is naught in it that should cause thy death. Art thou still no better?"
"Nay;" said Francis feebly. "I am sure that my time is come. Good Edward, I beseech you, bring me a priest that he may shrive me."
"There is no priest in all the castle walls, Francis Stafford. Know you not that priests and all such popery are forbid? I will call a chirurgeon."
"Nay; do not so," said the girl. "What this weakness that has o"ertaken me may be, I know not, unless it be death. E"er I depart I would a.s.soil my soul of all taint. Therefore incline thine ear, Master Devereaux, and receive my confession. It cuts me to the quick to make acknowledgment, but I have hated thee because thy skill with the bow was greater than mine." She paused for a moment. It was hard for Francis Stafford to confess fault even though she believed herself to be dying. Soon she continued: "It was thine arrow, Edward Devereaux, that slew the deer. I knew it at the time, but I liked not to own thy skill. Wilt thou pardon me?"
"Gladly, gladly," said Devereaux. "Only I know not how thou couldst have seen the arrow. Thou wert not there."
"I was, Edward," returned Francis. "I am in truth Francis Stafford, but I am the daughter instead of the son of my father."
"Thou!--A girl!" The youth drew back in astonishment. "And I struck thee with my sword? O chivalry! I am undone! I am undone!"
"Nay; take it not so to heart. The blame is not thine. How couldst thou know that I was other than I seemed?"
"But I struck thee!" The boy seemed almost stunned. "Would Sidney have been guilty of such an act? Would the basest hind in the field have lifted a sword against a woman? Fair mistress," he cried in distress offering his sword to her, "do one last favor for Edward Devereaux. Bury that sword in the breast of him who is unworthy to bear it."
"In the name of St. George, what means this?" cried Lord Shrope as he and Lord Hunsdon ran out from among the trees.
"By my faith, my lord," cried the chamberlain bursting into a laugh. "If there has not been a duel!"
"Art hurt, Francis?" and Lord Shrope bent over the girl with solicitude.
"My lord, methought just now that I was dying, but the weakness that overcame me hath departed," and the girl staggered to her feet with his a.s.sistance.
"But thou art wounded? Girl, girl, what doth it mean?" Lord Shrope caught hold of the sleeve that dangled from her bared arm.
"Edward," said the lord chamberlain sternly, "I am surprised at thee. Is this thy honor? Thou wert to treat this girl with gentleness. I had thy word. Thou knowest also that no brawling is permitted near the person of the queen. It shall go hard with thee for this. Francis Stafford might not know the law, albeit ignorance excuses none, but thou didst. Besides, in the name of chivalry, what cause had you to draw your sword against a maiden?"
"My lord," said Devereaux who had received the rebuke with bowed head, "deal with me as you list. There is no penalty too severe to be visited upon me. There is naught that can restore self-esteem to Edward Devereaux. But, I beseech you, believe me when I say that I knew not until now that yon maiden was a boy only in attire. My lord, believe this, and you may do with me as you will."