"Beshrew me, sayst thou so!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lord Stafford. "I thought not to meet with any here. But oft must a man"s pleasuring be staid for by affairs of business. Is it not true, good Giles?"
"Marry, "tis only too true," replied the host.
"Where is he that would speak with me, Giles?"
"In the east parlor, my lord. I crave forbearance, sir, for placing any in the room which is reserved for your use, but I knew not that you were about to fare this way."
"Trouble not thyself concerning the matter, good Giles," returned his lordship. "Come, Francis."
Tossing his cloak to Francis he strode toward the entrance of the tavern.
The girl threw the garment over her arm, started to follow him, and then paused in sheerest confusion at finding the eyes of the myrmidons of the inn upon her.
Donning male attire in her own home had been mere sport, but with the curious eyes of strangers upon her the girl felt painfully embarra.s.sed.
"Look to thyself, boy," came in sharp tones from her father, and there was a note of warning in the faint emphasis that he placed upon the word boy.
Thus adjured Francis collected her wits, and, looking neither to the right nor to the left, she followed after her father with all the boldness which she could a.s.sume. Lord Stafford wended his way to the east parlor of the inn with the air of being perfectly familiar with the place, giving his orders to the rotund host as he went.
""Tis but a short time that we will trouble thee, Giles," he said. "Serve us with dinner, I pray you. We will rest for a time, and then speed onward. Anthony," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed as the host threw open the door of the chamber, "it is thou?"
""Tis even I, my lord," answered a tall young man coming forward. "I had news that you were coming this way and hurried hither to greet you."
"Right glad am I to see thee, Babington," was Stafford"s rejoinder. "I have much to say to thee. Hast dined?"
"No, my lord."
"Then let us eat, and afterward there will be leisure for converse. Be in haste with thy meal, Giles."
The host hastened from the room while Francis slipped quietly into the nearest chair, and looked with interest at the young man. She had heard of Anthony Babington. His attachment to Mary of Scotland was well known, and his devotion invested him with a romantic glamour now that she too had espoused the same cause. The young man was speaking in low, rapid tones to her father:
"I tell you, my lord, that the attempt will not be successful. No invasion or insurrection can occur during Elizabeth"s life, for any open endeavor in Mary"s favor will cause Sir Amyas Paulet to slay her. He hath sworn it."
"Then, Anthony, it may be unwise to try to release Mary from her prison.
She hath suffered much of late from illness. It was my hope that if we were successful, to place her where she might obtain the comforts of which she hath been bereft, and so placed she would regain her health."
"The matter hath gone too far to end in her mere release," cried Babington earnestly. "Elizabeth must die."
"Babington, thou art mad!" exclaimed Lord Stafford starting up in horror.
"Mad? Nay; I have just begun to see that I have been called to rid England of that most unjust queen who transcends the laws of blood by keeping her own kin imprisoned as she hath done. And I am not alone, Stafford. There are others who believe as I do. Wilt thou join us?"
"Never," cried Lord Stafford sternly. "May my right hand drop from its shoulder ere it be raised against England"s queen. Unjust to Mary she hath been. Unjust in her treatment of her, and unjust in usurping the throne. But still she is her father"s daughter, and crowned queen of England. If it be so that the release of Mary can be compa.s.sed, and Elizabeth forced to recognize her as her successor, I will join the effort even as I have already pledged to do. But no more."
"Hast thou not seen Ballard?" asked the young man in surprise.
"Yes; he tarried with me at mine own house as Captain Fortescue. How now?"
"He said that thou wert ripe for the project," mused the other.
"Not to a.s.sa.s.sinate Elizabeth," returned Lord Stafford firmly. "I go to Chartley now to acquaint Mary with the plan for her release. But I tell thee, Anthony, if what thou tellest me be true, then will I withdraw from the enterprise."
"My lord, I did but try thee. Some there be who advocate the slaying of Elizabeth, but they are few. I beseech you, as you have given your pledge, aid us in acquainting Mary with the plan for her rescue. No more than this do we ask, and thou art depended on for this much."
"As mine honor hath been given, I will continue to Chartley," said Lord Stafford.
"Then, my lord, wilt thou bear this letter also from me," and Babington handed him a small missive. "It hath given her some uneasiness at not hearing from me, and I would ease her mind."
"Yes, Anthony; the letter shall be given her with these others." Lord Stafford concealed it in his belt. "Methinks that thou art in a bad way, my lad."
"More anon," said Babington. "Our host comes. Thy dinner is served, my lord."
CHAPTER V
ON THE ROAD TO STAFFORD
Francis was so absorbed in the thoughts engendered by the conversation that she had just heard that she forgot all about her character as page and her duties as such. She was recalled to herself by a sharp reprimand from her father:
"Thy duty, Francis. Attend to the serving."
Babington turned a startled glance upon her as she arose in obedience to her father"s command.
"The page?" he cried. "Did he hear our converse, my lord?"
"Yes; but fear not, Anthony. I would stake mine honor upon his silence.
Thou canst be trusted, Francis?"
With heightened color, for the blood mounted to her cheeks at the intent gaze of the young man, the girl answered earnestly:
"Yes, my lord. Naught of what I have heard shall pa.s.s my lips. Not even the rack should wring it from me."
"Protest not too much, boy," rebuked Babington. "Older and wiser men than thou have succ.u.mbed to its tortures."
"You speak words of wisdom, Anthony," remarked Lord Stafford. "Let us hope that the boy will not be tried by so grievous an instrument. Yet I do believe that he will be discreet."
"He seems a proper lad," returned the other. "A little backward, forsooth, but with none of the malapertness of some pages."
Francis, now completely at ease as she saw that the young man believed her to be what she appeared, flashed an arch look at her father. Lord Stafford smiled slightly, but his countenance soon became overcast with gravity. The meal over, the host withdrew, and the elder man turned once more to the younger one.
"Anthony," he said, "I must on my way, but let me plead with thee that if thou dost entertain a thought of such rash emprises as thy words suggest, to forego them. Naught but disaster could follow upon such projects."
"My lord, say no more an thou lovest me," replied Babington. "Mary"s sufferings cry aloud for vengeance. Sleeping or waking her wrongs are before me. My lord, she is a prisoner; made to submit to privations that even the basest criminals do not undergo. Couldst thou have seen her at Tutbury or Wingfield as I have done, you would wonder no longer that deeds of blood suggest themselves."
"Anthony, thou art mad," exclaimed Lord Stafford compa.s.sionately.
"Mad! nay; but Mary Stuart hath languished too long in her chains. I would dare anything to release her from them."