“I must listen, child, when thou callest me so from your heart; but it is of no use, my poor little one.  They have referred the matter to the Star Chamber, that they may settle it there with closed doors and no forms of law.  Thou couldst do nothing!  And could I trust thee to go wandering to London, like a maiden in a ballad, all alone?”

“Nay, madam, I should not go alone.  My father, I mean Mr. Talbot, would take me.”

“Come, bairnie, that is presuming overmuch on the good man’s kindness.”

“I do not speak without warrant, madam.  I told him what I longed to do, and he said it might be my duty, and if it were so, he would not gainsay me; but that he could not let me go alone, and would go with me.  And he can get access for me to the Queen.  He has seen her himself, and so has Humfrey; and Diccon is a gentleman pensioner.”

“There have been ventures enough for me already,” said Mary.  “I will bring no more faithful heads into peril.”

“Then will you not consent, mother?  He will quit the castle to-morrow, and I am to see him in the morning and give him an answer.  If you would let me go, he would crave license to take me home, saying that I look paler than my wont.”

“And so thou dost, child.  If I could be sure of ever seeing thee again, I should have proposed thy going home to good Mistress Susan’s tendance for a little space.  But it is not to be thought of.  I could not risk thee, or any honest loving heart, on so desperate a stake as mine!  I love thee, mine ain, true, leal lassie, all the more, and I honour him; but it may not be!  Ask me no more.”

Mary was here interrupted by a request from Sir Christopher Hatton for one of the many harassing interviews that beset her during the days following the trial, when judgment was withheld, according to the express command of the vacillating Elizabeth, and the case remitted to the Star Chamber.  Lord Burghley considered this hesitation to be the effect of judicial blindness—­so utterly had hatred and fear of the future shut his eyes to all sense of justice and fair play.

Cicely felt all youth’s disappointment in the rejection of its grand schemes.  But to her surprise at night Mary addressed her again, “My daughter, did that true-hearted foster-father of thine speak in sooth?”

“He never doth otherwise,” returned Cicely.

“For,” said her mother, “I have thought of a way of gaining thee access to the Queen, far less perilous to him, and less likely to fail.  I will give thee letters to M. De Chateauneuf, the French Ambassador, whom I have known in old times, with full credentials.  It might be well to have with thee those that I left with Mistress Talbot.  Then he will gain thee admittance, and work for thee as one sent from France, and protected by the rights of the Embassy.  Thus, Master Richard need never appear in the matter at all, and at any rate thou wouldst be secure.  Chateauneuf would find means of sending thee abroad if needful.”