in every one’s eyes save his father’s, his own sister, and lamely concluded “to take a draught of water,” blushing under his brown skin as he spoke.  Poor fellow! the Queen, even while she wished him in the farthest West Indian isle, could not help understanding that strange doubt and dread that come over the mind at the last moment before a longed-for meeting, and which had made even the bold young sailor glad to rally his hopes by this divination.  Fortunately she thought only herself and one or two of the foremost had heard the name he gave, as was proved by the Earl’s good-humoured laugh, as he said,

“A draught, quotha?  We understand that, young sir.  And who may this your true love be?”

“That I hope soon to make known to your Lordship,” returned Humfrey, with a readiness which he certainly did not possess before his voyage.

The ceremony was still to be fulfilled, and the smith’s wife called them to order by saying, “Good luck to the young gentleman.  He is a stranger here, or he would have known he should have come up by our path!  Will you try the well, your Grace?”

“Nay, nay, good woman, my time for such toys is over!” said the Queen smiling, “but moved by such an example, here are others to make the venture, Master Curll is burning for it, I see.”

“I fear no such trial, an’t please your Grace,” said Curll, bowing, with a bright defiance of the water, and exchanging a confident smile with the blushing Mistress Barbara—­then kneeling by the well, and uttering her name aloud ere stooping to drink.  He too succeeded in obtaining a full draught, and came up triumphantly.

“The water is a flatterer!” said the Earl.  “It favours all.”

The French secretary, Monsieur Nau, here came forward and took his place on the steps.  No one heard, but every one knew the word he spoke was “Bessie,” for Elizabeth Pierrepoint had long been the object of his affections.  No doubt he hoped that he should obtain some encouragement from the water, even while he gave a little laugh of affected incredulity as though only complying with a form to amuse the Queen.  Down he went on his knees, bending over the pool, when behold he could not reach it!  The streams that fed it were no longer issuing from the rock, the water was subsiding rapidly.  The farther he stooped, the more it retreated, till he had almost fallen over, and the guide screamed out a note of warning, “Have a care, sir!  If the water flees you, flee it will, and ye’ll not mend matters by drowning yourself.”

How he was to be drowned by water that fled from him was not clear, but with a muttered malediction he arose and glanced round as if he thought the mortification a trick on the part of the higher powers, since the Earl did not think him a match for the Countess’s grandchild, and the Queen had made it known to him that she considered Bess Pierrepoint to have too much of her grandmother’s conditions to be likely to be a good wife.  There was a laugh too, scarce controlled by some of the less well-mannered of the suite, especially as the Earl, wishing to punish his presumption, loudly set the example.