“Alack, son, the Talbot may be a good dog but the lioness will scarce esteem him her mate.  Riddles apart, it is proved beyond question that our little maid is of birth as high as it is unhappy.  Thou canst be secret, I know, Humfrey, and thou must be silent as the grave, for it touches my honour and the poor child’s liberty.”

“Who is she, then?” demanded Humfrey sharply.

His father pointed to the Queen’s window.  Humfrey stared at him, and muttered an ejaculation, then exclaimed, “How and when was this known?”

Richard went over the facts, giving as few names as possible, while his son stood looking down and drawing lines with the point of his sword.

“I hoped,” ended the father, “that these five years’ absence might have made thee forget thy childish inclination;” and as Humfrey, without raising his face, emphatically shook his head, be went on to add—­ “So, my dear son, meseemeth that there is no remedy, but that, for her peace and thine own, thou shouldest accept this offer of brave Norreys, and by the time the campaign is ended, they may be both safe in Scotland, out of reach of vexing thy heart, my poor boy.”

“Is it so sure that her royal lineage will be owned?” muttered Humfrey.  “Out on me for saying so!  But sure this lady hath made light enough of her wedlock with yonder villain.”

“Even so, but that was when she deemed its offspring safe beneath the waves.  I fear me that, however our poor damsel be regarded, she will be treated as a mere bait and tool.  If not bestowed on some foreign prince (and there hath been talk of dukes and archdukes), she may serve to tickle the pride of some Scottish thief, such as was her father.”

“Sir! sir! how can you speak patiently of such profanation and cruelty?  Papist butchers and Scottish thieves, for the child of your hearth!  Were it not better that I stole her safely away and wedded her in secret, so that at least she might have an honest husband?”

“Nay, his honesty would scarce be thus manifest,” said Richard, “even if the maid would consent, which I think she would not.  Her head is too full of her new greatness to have room for thee, my poor lad.  Best that thou shouldest face the truth.  And, verily, what is it but her duty to obey her mother, her true and veritable mother, Humfrey?  It is but making her ease harder, and adding to her griefs, to strive to awaken any inclination she may have had for thee; and therefore it is that I counsel thee, nay, I might command thee, to absent thyself while it is still needful that she remain with us, passing for our daughter.”

Humfrey still traced lines with his sword in the dust.  He had always been a strong-willed though an obedient and honourable boy, and his father felt that these five years had made a man of him, whom, in spite of mediaeval obedience, it was not easy to dispose of arbitrarily.

“There’s no haste,” he muttered.  “Norreys will not go till my Lord of Leicester’s commission be made out.  It is five years since I was at home.”