"To overwhelm her escort while she is taking the air, child. Babington is to come with one hundred men and carry Mary off. Her escort seldom consists of more than eighteen or twenty men, and we think she might be easily taken from them."
"But would not other of Sir Amyas"s men follow after and retake her?"
"We hope to place her in a secure spot ere they could do so, Francis.
Once across the border Elizabeth would have no power over her, and her son, unfilial though he hath shown himself, could not for very shame refuse her safe asylum. Then she might, if she would so choose, retire to France where she could dwell in peace."
"She must have those letters, my father."
"Yes, Francis; but how? My mind plays me false when I would discover a way. It is not active. We must think, think, Francis."
Francis arose and walked to the window where she stood abstractedly looking through the lattice which overhung a large yard, surrounded by the stables of the hostelry. Some yeomen were dressing their own or their masters" horses, whistling, singing and laughing. Suddenly she bent forward eagerly.
"My father," she cried, "prithee come here!"
"What is it, Francis?" asked Lord Stafford joining her.
"Dost see the boy on the cart that has just entered the yard?"
"Yes."
"What is he, think you?"
"My child, he is a carter. What doth make thee so full of interest in him?"
"Might it not be that as a carter he would go to Chartley sometimes?"
"Gramercy! I see thy meaning. How full of wit thou art!"
Francis smiled, much gratified.
"If it can be compa.s.sed would it not be excellent to enter Chartley as a carter? The thing is to get within the gates. Then the delivery of the letters would be easy."
""Tis excellently thought of, child, but there are guards within as well.
"Twould still require adroitness to accomplish the rest."
"Trust me! If I can get within, the rest shall follow," said she with great determination. "I will enter into talk with that carter and see what can be done with him. My father, do I bear myself in a manner befitting my garb?"
"Thou art a very model of pagehood, Francis. Go, my child. Heavy as the burden of this emprise is it seems to have shifted its weight to thy shoulders. Find if the lad goes to Chartley, and if so, the way may be opened for us to enter therein. Divers means must be employed to accomplish our aims."
The girl left the chamber and, a.s.suming the careless frowardness of a page, sauntered into the yard.
"Good-morrow, my lad," she said, stopping by the side of the boy who was busily engaged in removing sacks, baskets and other receptacles from the cart.
"Good-morrow, young sir," returned the wight civilly. "It hath been some days since I saw your worshipful sir. Methought that you had gone away."
"Nay; I tarry here still for there is good cheer to be found at the Red Hand," quoth Francis with a bold swagger. "How busy thou art."
"Yes; the likes o" us have to be. What with loading the cart, delivering, and unloading again, and caring for the nag I find the time full."
"And where doth it all go, lad?"
"To Chartley, sir."
"Chartley? Is not that where Mary of Scotland is confined?" asked Francis, trying to speak indifferently.
"The very place."
"Didst ever see her, boy?"
"Why, yes, my young master. Many a time and oft since she hath been at Chartley. She takes the air in the early morning in the gardens and I have seen her there when I drove in with my cart."
"I would that I might see her. Could I--could I go with you?"
The youth stared for a moment and then answered soberly:
"It is forbid to us to carry aught besides our wares within the gates.
And Sir Amyas is that particular that I mis...o...b.. if he would let you enter."
"Still I would like to try. "Tis only for a sight of the queen. And see!
here is a gold piece that thou canst have. Do let me go with thee, Will.
Thy name is Will?"
"That is my name, sir." Will"s hand closed over the gold but he still appeared reluctant. "Well, it shall be as you wish, my young master. But you must wear other garb than that, else you cannot enter."
"What habit shall I wear, good Will?"
"I will give thee my cloak and bonnet, master. I durst not do this if thou shouldst want else but to look at the queen. But what harm is there in that?"
"What in truth, Will? A cat may look at a king, I trow. When do you go again?"
"To-morrow. Wouldst go then?"
"Ay, Will."
"Then, my master, you must be up with the lark for we start early."
"I will be ready. Then farewell until then. Thou wilt not regret thy favor to me, Will, I promise thee."
"I hope not, master."
"Thou wilt not. Farewell till the morrow."
And Francis ran lightly back to her father to report the result of the interview.
CHAPTER VIII