“La meute,” said Francis, “that is their term for the home of us Talbots, and the sailor in the fens is this Don John of Austria, who means, after conquering the Dutchmen, to come and set free this tercel gentle, as she calls herself, and play the inquisitor upon us.  On my honour, Dick, your boy has played the man in making this discovery.  Keep the young traitor fast, and take down a couple of yeomen to lay hands on this same Tibbott as she calls herself.”

“If I remember right,” said Richard, “she was said to be the sister or aunt to one of the grooms or prickers.”

“So it was, Guy Norman, methinks.  Belike he was the very fellow to set fire to our kennel.  Yea, we must secure him.  I’ll see to that, and you shall lay this scroll before my father meantime, Dick.  Why, to fall on such a trail will restore his spirits, and win back her Grace to believe in his honesty, if my lady’s tricks should have made her doubtful.”

Off went Francis with great alacrity, and ere long the Earl was present with Richard.  The long light beard was now tinged with gray, and there were deep lines round the mouth and temples, betraying how the long anxiety was telling on him, and rendering him suspicious and querulous.  “Soh!  Richard Talbot,” was his salutation, “what’s the coil now?  Can a man never be left in peace in his own house, between queens and ladies, plots and follies, but his own kinsfolk and retainers must come to him on every petty broil among the lads!  I should have thought your boy and young Babington might fight out their quarrels alone without vexing a man that is near driven distracted as it is.”

“I grieve to vex your lordship,” said Richard, standing bareheaded, “but Master Francis thought this scroll worthy of your attention.  This is the manner in which he deciphered it.”

“Scrolls, I am sick of scrolls,” said the Earl testily.  “What! is it some order for saying mass,—­or to get some new Popish image or a skein of silk?  I wear my eyes out reading such as that, and racking my brains for some hidden meaning!”

And falling on Francis’s first attempt at copying, he was scornful of the whole, and had nearly thrown the matter aside, but when he lit at last on the sentence about burning the meute and carrying off the tercel gentle, his brow grew dark indeed, and his inquiries came thickly one upon the other, both as to Antony Babington and the huckstering woman.

In the midst, Frank Talbot returned with the tidings that the pricker Guy Norman was nowhere to be found.  He had last been seen by his comrades about the time that Captain Richard had returned to the Manor-house.  Probably he had taken alarm on seeing him come back at that unusual hour, and had gone to carry the warning to his supposed aunt.  This last intelligence made the Earl decide on going down at once to Bridgefield to examine young Babington before there was time to miss his presence at the lodge, or to hold any communication with him.  Frank caused horses to be brought round, and the Earl rode down with Richard by a shaded alley in an ordinary cloak and hat.