Elizabeth smiled. There was a hum in the crowded Court. Cos-
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mos came forward again. He thought his master looked magnificent standing thus beside his Queen, with the lovely ladies grouped around them. He knelt, as Cavendish had taught him.
"We are proud to bring Your Majesty a small gift," he said.
Elizabeth smiled at his accent.
"Open the box, Cosmos," Cavendish said.
Cosmos snapped open the ivory lid. On a satin bed, a huge ruby ring gleamed. Elizabeth picked it up and slipped it on her finger.
"We thank you," she said to Cosmos.
Cosmos rose to his feet, and stepped to one side, allowing the three satin-clad Filipinos to kneel in front of Elizabeth.
Each of them presented her with a box.
"From Java," Cavendish said, as Elizabeth looked down at a creamy circlet of pearls, at a jade pendant studded around with diamonds, at a great black stone from the East.
She smiled delightedly at her treasures. Before, she had received the Crown's share of the voyage; but these were as beautiful as the brilliance of her own Court, in fullest flower and plumage today.
The musicians began to play, softly. The sound of voices arose. Cosmos smelled food. He stuck close to his master, eagerly listening to snatches of conversation.
"Sir Thomas, would you permit me to send you the poem I have written commemorating your voyage?"
"Tom, Tom! Jesu, man, I'm glad to see you! I arrived in London only today!"
"Sir, sometime would it be too great a favor if I might see you and if you might tell me if I could sail with you, next time?"
"Sir Thomas, could I beg a favor of you too, and ask you to receive my father, Lord Bedford?"
"Sir, I wonder if I might speak with you on a matter of business— about spices—"
Cosmos was amazed at the informality of the court. At dinner the Queen ate sparingly, summoning her favorites, talking with them. Her eyes roved over the room and once they fastened on a young man she did not know; she stared at him and his color came and went until finally, with a wave of her hand, he came to her side. She told him to present himself. Then, after a little while, she beckoned to Cosmos.
He talked to her for fifteen minutes while she questioned him about his native land. In another part of the long room, Cavendish and Essex and Carey and two other men were gambling. Once the
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Queen heard an explosive oath and she turned her head to look; her ladies clicked their tongues, plied their fans, and glanced over at the men. At nine, the Queen rose.
But her going did not put a stop to the festivities. The musicians played, and Cosmos stood behind Cavendish's chair and watched the card game. They were playing primero and the stakes were high. They interspersed their gaming with talk about the women. Three young men stood and watched Cavendish play. They listened too. Cosmos heard Cavendish say, as he pushed a pile of gold coins forward, "Who's that dark-haired wench?"
Carey looked, and then consulted his cards and matched the gold, and turned again to look at the dark-haired woman. She was sitting decorously, her hands folded over her fan. Carey flipped his cards over. "Fifty-five," he said. "She's Southerly's wife."
"That fish?" Cavendish asked. "A flush, gentlemen." He spread his hand and scraped in the money. "Southerly is poor, too."
Carey picked up the cards and began to deal.
Essex said, picking up his cards, "He has a name, though. She didn't."
"Oh," said Cavendish.
"She's been pursued by many," said Essex, discarding two cards and waiting for the draw. "Give yourself a month of assiduous attention."
"A month?" asked Cavendish. "All I have is two hours."
Carey looked up and grinned. Cavendish's blue eyes were full of laughter, and Harington said, "Well, Tom, what are you going to do about it?"
Cavendish laughed. "I'm studying the lay of the land. Tell me more about the fort and her commandant."
Carey said, "At least call her a fortress, Tom."
Cavendish got to his feet. He said, "I'm going to reconnoiter."
Carey watched him go over to Nora Southerly.
"What'll he do?" Essex asked, and Carey said, "You don't know him very well, but he has some mad plan ready." He started to laugh. He watched, and across the room he saw Cavendish beginning to talk to Nora Southerly. In an hour, Cavendish came back to the table; the men were still playing cards, and there was evidence that a great deal of wine had been consumed. Nora Southerly was walking away with her husband.
Cavendish slid back his chair, which one of the men had vacated for him instantly.
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"You failed," Essex said.
"I've time for one hand," Cavendish said.
Carey rocked back in his chair. "Out with it/' he demanded. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm planning a military action," Cavendish said. "If no one is going to deal, we might as well go now."
"What are you going to do?" Carey repeated.
Cosmos appeared with Cavendish's cloak.
"Come along," Cavendish said.
He picked out three of the younger men who had been waiting. "You cannot come, Essex," he said. "Bess might not like this."
The October night was brilliant with stars, and cold. In the courtyard, the torches of the linkmen lighted the faces of a group of men who stood around Cavendish. He was tying a handkerchief across the lower part of his face; he swung up into the saddle, and riding abreast with Tyler, he and his group of riders pounded out of the palace gates and into the city streets.
Their quarry was ahead, but their horses' flying hoofs ate up the distance. In ten minutes, the outlines of a coach could be seen in the darkened street. Cavendish and Tyler spurred forward, galloping past the coach, and reached out to stop the horses. The coachman shouted for help, and waved his long whip. Tyler seized it and wrenched it from his grasp.
The coach stopped jerkily; it was surrounded by masked riders. Harington pulled his sword and flourished it.
The footmen fled, jumping down and taking to their heels. Cavendish slid from the saddle, and flung open the door of the stranded coach. The horses danced, and along the street, windows flew open so the people in the houses could see what was happening.
The torches flared high. "To me!" shouted Southerly to his grooms, even as he stared at Cavendish's masked face.
Cavendish pushed him backward against the seat. "I want the wench/' he said, holding Southerly back with one arm as he leaned over him to take Nora's arm. His big hand fastened over her wrists, and he pulled her out of the coach.
Southerly was stammering with rage, but he did not move. "I know you," he was saying. "I know you, Cavendish!"
"Send your seconds in the morning," said Cavendish, his voice clear in the street. "And tell Bess. Good night, sir."
He swung Nora up into his arms, set her on his horse, and
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mounted. The big roan wheeled; Carey and Harington put spurs to their own animals.
"We'd best leave," Carey said.
The man next to him said breathlessly, "Jesu! He'd known her only an hour!"
Carey was pounding down the street. "He's always been like this."
"Southerly's like to kill him," the younger man ejaculated.
Carey shook his head. "Not the Captain," he said. "Not Tom."
Chapter XXXIX
Cavendish killed southerly the next day at dawn, he and Essex and Carey had forgotten one thing—that Southerly was the deadliest shot in England.
Southerly had sent his seconds that same night. Tyler took the news to Carey, and Carey arrived with Harington at four in the morning. Over a tankard of ale, Carey said, "For God's sake, Tom, it's your place to choose the weapon. He's challenging you."
"He has asked to use pistols, and I'm not disappointing him," Cavendish said.