"Why, why," stammered Francis abashed by his harsh address and rude bearing. "I have no business. I only wished to see the queen."
"Queen forsooth! Of what is she queen?" asked the other brusquely. "Of nothing, I trow. Not even is she mistress of her own actions. Queen forsooth!"
"Thou speakest truly, Paulet," said the lady mildly. "Yet methinks it not becoming in thee to taunt Mary Stuart with the miserable state to which she hath been reduced. Boy, thou didst wish to see Mary. I am she."
"Mary? Art thou in truth Queen Mary?" Francis exclaimed rapturously, and seeing the a.s.senting smile on the lady"s face she darted to her side and seizing her hand she kissed it fervently. "Oh," she cried, "if thou art Mary, know that mistress of thy actions thou mayst not be, but thou dost reign in truth a queen over this poor heart."
The dark eyes of Mary Stuart filled with tears and she pressed the girl"s hand tenderly.
"Such homage is sweet to the poor captive, my lad. It gladdens our heart to know that there are some who still hold Mary in reverence. Take this and wear in remembrance of her who is grateful for even the homage of a page."
She drew from her neck a chain of gold to which was attached a locket which she threw over the girl"s head. With an exclamation of delight Francis pressed it to her lips pa.s.sionately.
"It shall never leave me while life lasts," she declared. "But may I not wait upon you at your castle, Your Highness? I would be of service to you."
Her eyes sought the lady"s with a meaning look that Mary was quick to catch.
"Nay;" broke in Sir Amyas Paulet for the gruff old puritan was very rigid with his ill.u.s.trious captive. "Thou hast had thy wish, boy, and obtained what was doubtless thy object: a chain for a kiss, a locket for an obeisance. It pays to give court to reduced royalty. Away with thee, and let me not see thy face at Chartley, else thou shalt meet a gruff reception."
"Then farewell." Francis drew as close to the lady"s side as she could.
"There are letters," she whispered.
"Away!" Sir Amyas laid a hand upon the bridle of Mary"s horse and turned the animal from the girl. "I will have no whisperings. Away, boy!"
"Be not overcome, my pretty lad," and Mary drew rein despite the protests of her uncivil guardian. "We thank thee for thy homage, and hope to see thee again when we journey forth. Farewell."
"Farewell," returned Francis sinking upon one knee and saluting her. "I will see you again, Your Grace."
With an impatient exclamation Sir Amyas Paulet gave a sharp blow to Mary"s horse, which reared and plunged at the treatment, almost unseating the lady, able horsewoman though she was. The animal then dashed away followed by the grim old puritan and the remainder of the party who had halted at some little distance from them.
As soon as they were out of sight Francis took the locket in her hand.
"And I have seen Mary," she said with gladness. "How it will surprise my father. How beautiful is the locket, and how full of graciousness and sweetness she is! Service in her behalf must be a joy."
She turned and retraced her steps toward Stafford unmindful of the fact that she had started to meet her father.
It had been morning when Lord Stafford had left his daughter; the sun was declining in the west when, discouraged and low in spirit, he returned to the tavern!
"It is even worse than report hath it," he said as he entered the apartment where Francis awaited him. "Chartley is as much a prison for Mary as the tower itself would be. When I sought admission to its gates I was refused and threatened, forsooth. The manor is surrounded by a moat and is well defended. The walls can be scaled only by birds. Methinks that there is cause for Babington"s wild frenzy."
"Father," spoke Francis demurely, though there was exultation in her tones, "I saw Mary."
"My child, what do you say?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lord Stafford in surprise. "How couldst thou? You were not at Chartley."
"Nathless I saw the queen," and Francis laughed gleefully. "See what she graciously gave me."
Her father took the chain and locket in his hands and examined them closely.
"It doth indeed come from Mary," he said looking at the name, Marie R, engraved upon it. "Thou hast accomplished wonders, Francis. Tell me how the matter fell out?"
Francis related all that had happened. Lord Stafford listened intently.
"Sir Amyas is an austere jailer," he observed. "He thinketh to do his duty more acceptably to Elizabeth by treating Mary with rigor. Mary is quick of wit, and I doubt not that this will put her on the alert. Child, I must trust to thy wit to help me in this. Canst thou compa.s.s it?"
"I am sure so," answered Francis with the confidence of youth. "To-morrow I will again repair to the forked roads, and mayhap she will be there."
"Mayhap," said her father, "but I mis...o...b.. it. Paulet may be suspicious of thee, but "twill do no harm to be there. We will try to get the letters to her, but if we do not succeed then must Ballard, or Captain Fortescue as he calls himself, find some other means of communicating with her."
"We will succeed. Never fear," said Francis with conviction.
CHAPTER VII
FRANCIS TO THE FRONT
The next morning Francis was early at the crossroads but although she waited for several hours neither Mary nor any of her party appeared.
"It is as I thought it would be," said Lord Stafford, "but we must not be discouraged. You must go to the same place for several days. I feel sure that if Mary can compa.s.s it she will fare that way again. It is our only hope of opening up communication with her."
Three more days pa.s.sed without result, but on the morning of the fourth day a cavalcade appeared. Francis was delighted to see Mary in their midst. Not as before on a horse but in a coach. As she stood with uncovered head the party swept by her without stopping. The queen bowed and smiled, but when the girl would have darted to the side of the coach she was prevented by the gentlemen of the guard who closed around it.
"Oh," cried the girl, tears of disappointment streaming from her eyes, "what shall I do? What can I do?" But the equipage swept on bearing Mary from her sight and Francis gave way to her grief unrestrainedly.
"And I thought to have done so much," she murmured when she had become calm. "Ah! my father did well to say that Sir Amyas was an austere man.
Little doth it comfort Mary to be a queen when there is such an one to control her actions. Well, I must to the inn."
She turned to go back to the town when her eye was caught by a filmy bit of linen which was caught in a bush by the wayside.
""Twas hers," cried Francis catching it up eagerly. "How foolish to repine when I should have known that there would be some sign."
Examining the dainty bit of cloth carefully she found it covered over with a lot of characters whose meaning she could not fathom.
"I must take it to my father," she said concealing the linen in her bosom. "Mayhap he can decipher it." And she hastened to return to the tavern joyful at having obtained at least a token.
"It is written in cipher," remarked Lord Stafford, examining the bit of cloth attentively. "It is my good fortune to have the key to some of the ciphers which she uses. It may be that it is the one that will unravel the meaning of this for us."
Francis awaited the result with impatience while her father applied himself to the task of deciphering the characters. Presently he looked up triumphantly.
"I have it, child. Mary is in truth on the alert. She knows that we have messages for her. Listen! she says: "I find no security in writing by carrier; the best recipe for secret writing is alum dissolved in a little clear water twenty-four hours before it is required to write with. In order to read it the paper must be wetted in a basin of water and then held to the fire; the secret writing then appears white and may easily be read until the paper gets dry. You may write in this manner on white taffeta or white linen, especially lawn; and as a token when anything is written on a piece of taffeta or linen a little snip can be cut off from one of the corners. Friend, if so be that you have letters, transcribe their message in the above manner. As to the manner of their delivery I know not. I will this way as often as the disposition of my jailer will permit. Adieu, my friend--though I know not thy name, yet thy features are engraved upon the heart of your queen,
"MARIE, ROYNE.""
"There!" Lord Stafford smoothed the piece of cloth complacently. "The thing that troubles is how to give her the papers and letters. "Tis my belief that they would be as easy to deliver as to transcribe their contents upon cloth to give her. She must be made aware of the plan for her rescue."
"What is the plan, father?"