“You are doing much, much indeed,” said Susan; “and all this time you have told me nothing of my son, save what all might hear.  How fares he? is his heart still set on this poor maid?”

“And ever will be,” said his father.  “His is not an outspoken babbling love like poor Master Nau, who they say was so inspired at finding himself in the same city with Bess Pierrepoint that he could talk of nothing else, and seemed to have no thought of his own danger or his Queen’s.  No, but he hath told me that he will give up all to serve her, without hope of requital; for her mother hath made her forswear him, and though she be not always on his tongue, he will do so, if I mistake not his steadfastness.”

Susan sighed, but she knew that the love, that had begun when the lonely boy hailed the shipwrecked infant as his little sister, was of a calm, but unquenchable nature, were it for weal or woe.  She could not but be thankful that the express mandate of both the parents had withheld her son from sharing the danger which was serious enough even for her husband’s prudence and coolness of head.

By the morning, as she had predicted, the ardour of the Earl and Countess had considerably slackened; and though still willing to forward the petitioner on her way, they did not wish their names to appear in the matter.

They did, however, make an important offer.  The Mastiff was newly come into harbour at Hull, and they offered Richard the use of her as a conveyance.  He gladly accepted it.  The saving of expense was a great object; for he was most unwilling to use Queen Mary’s order on the French Ambassador, and he likewise deemed it possible that such a means of evasion might be very useful.

The Mastiff was sometimes used by some of the Talbot family on journeys to London, and had a tolerably commodious cabin, according to the notions of the time; and though it was late in the year, and poor Cis was likely to be wretched enough on the voyage, the additional security was worth having, and Cicely would be under the care of Goatley’s wife, who made all the voyages with her husband.  The Earl likewise charged Richard Talbot with letters and messages of conciliation to his son Gilbert, whose estrangement was a great grief to him, arising as it did entirely from the quarrels of the two wives, mother and daughter.  He even charged his kinsman with the proposal to give up Sheffield to Lord and Lady Talbot and retire to Wingfield rather than continue at enmity.  Mr. Talbot knew the parties too well to have much hope of prevailing, or producing permanent peace; but the commission was welcome, as it would give a satisfactory pretext for his presence in London.

A few days were spent at Bridgefield, Cicely making herself the most loving, helpful, and charming of daughters, and really basking in the peaceful atmosphere of Susan’s presence; and then,—­with many prayers and blessings from that good lady,—­they set forth for Hull, taking with them two servants besides poor Babington’s man Gillingham, whose superior intelligence and knowledge of London would make him useful, though there was a dark brooding look about him that made Richard always dread some act of revenge on his part toward his master’s foes.