“If it be truth, the worse for you, sir,” said the Queen, hotly.  “What colour can you give to thus hiding one who might, forsooth, claim royal blood, tainted though it be?”

“Pardon me, your Grace.  For many years I knew not who the babe was whom I had taken from the wreck, and when the secret of her birth was discovered, I deemed it not mine own but that of the Queen of Scots.”

“A captive’s secrets are not her own, and are only kept by traitors,” said Elizabeth, severely.

At this Cicely threw herself forward with glowing cheeks.  “Madam, madam, traitor never was named in the same breath with Master Talbot’s name before.  If he kept the secret, it was out of pity, and knowing no hurt could come to your Majesty by it.”

“Thou hast a tongue, wench, be thou who thou mayst,” said Elizabeth sharply.  “Stand back, and let him tell his own tale.”

Richard very briefly related the history of the rescue of the infant, which he said he could confirm by the testimony of Goatley and of Heatherthwayte.  He then explained how Langston had been present when she was brought home, and had afterwards made communications to the Queen of Scots that led to the girl, already in attendance on her, being claimed and recognised; after which he confessed that he had not the heart to do what might separate the mother and daughter by declaring their relationship.  Elizabeth meanwhile was evidently comparing his narrative with the letters of the Queen of Scots, asking searching questions here and there.

She made a sound of perplexity and annoyance at the end, and said, “This must be further inquired into.”

Here Cicely, fearing an instant dismissal, clasped her hands, and on her knees exclaimed, “Madam! it will not matter.  No trouble shall ever be caused by my drop of royal blood; no one shall ever even know that Bride of Scotland exists, save the few who now know it, and have kept the secret most faithfully.  I seek no state; all I ask is my mother’s life.  O madam, would you but see her, and speak with her, you would know how far from her thoughts is any evil to your royal person!”

“Tush, wench! we know better.  Is this thy lesson?”

“None hath taught me any lesson, madam.  I know what my mother’s enemies have, as they say, proved against her, and I know they say that while she lives your Grace cannot be in security.”

“That is what moves my people to demand her death,” said Elizabeth.

“It is not of your own free will, madam, nor of your own kind heart,” cried Cicely.  “That I well know!  And, madam, I will show you the way.  Let but my mother be escorted to some convent abroad, in France or Austria, or anywhere beyond the reach of Spain, and her name should be hidden from everyone!  None should know where to seek her.  Not even the Abbess should know her name.  She would be prisoned in a cell, but she would be happy, for she would have life and the free exercise of her religion.  No English Papist, no Leaguer, none should ever trace her, and she would disquiet you no more.”