M. de Chateauneuf thereupon committed the investigation to her and her husband. Richard Talbot took them first to the rooms where Mrs. Barbara Curll had taken up her abode, so as to be near her husband, who was still a prisoner in Walsingham's house. She fully confirmed all that Mr. Talbot said of the Queen's complete acceptance of Cis as her daughter, and moreover consented to come with the Salmonnets and Mr. Talbot, to visit the young lady on board the Mastiff.
Accordingly they went down the river together in Mr. Talbot's boat, and found Cicely, well cloaked and muffled, sitting under an awning, under the care of old Goatley, who treated her like a little queen, and was busy explaining to her all the different craft which filled the river.
She sprang up with the utmost delight at the sight of Mrs. Curll, and threw herself into her arms. There was an interchange of inquiries and comments that-unpremeditated as they were-could not but convince the auditor of the terms on which the young lady had stood with Queen Mary and her suite.
Afterwards Cicely took the two ladies to her cabin, a tiny box, but not uncomfortable according to her habits, and there, on Barbara's persuasion, she permitted Madame de Salmonnet to see the monograms on her shoulders. The lady went home convinced of her identity, and came again the next day with a gentleman in slouched hat, mask, and cloak.
As Cicely rose to receive him he uttered an exclamation of irrepressible astonishment, then added, "Your Highness will pardon me. Exactly thus did her royal mother stand when I took leave of her at Calais."
The Ambassador had thus been taken by storm, although the resemblance was more in figure and gesture than feature, but Mrs. Curll could aver that those who had seen Bothwell were at no loss to trace the derivation of the dark brows and somewhat homely features, in which the girl differed from the royal race of Scotland.
What was to be done? Queen Mary's letter to him begged him so far as was possible to give her French protection, and avoid compromising "that excellent Talbot," and he thought it would be wisest for her to await the coming of the Envoy Extraordinary, M. de Pomponne Bellievre, and be presented by him. In the meantime her remaining on board ship in this winter weather would be miserably uncomfortable, and Richmond and Greenwich were so near that any intercourse with her would be dangerous, especially if Langston was still in England. Lodgings or inns where a young lady from the country could safely be bestowed were not easily to be procured without greater familiarity with the place than Mr. Talbot possessed, and he could as little think of placing her with Lady Talbot, whose gossiping tongue and shrewish temper were not for a moment to be trusted. Therefore M de Chateauneuf's proposal that the young lady should become Madame de Salmonnet's guest at the embassy was not unwelcome. The lady was elderly, Scottish, and, as M. de Chateauneuf with something of a shudder assured Mr. Talbot, "most respectable." And it was hoped that it would not be for long. So, having seen her safely made over to the lady's care, Richard ventured for the first time to make his presence in London known to his son, and to his kindred; and he was the more glad to have her in these quarters because Diccon told him that there was no doubt that Langston was lurking about the town, and indeed he was convinced that he had recognised that spy entering Walsingham's house in the dress of a scrivener. He would not alarm Cicely, but he bade her keep all her goods in a state ready for immediate departure, in case it should be needful to leave London at once after seeing the Queen.
The French Ambassador's abode was an old conventual building on the river-side, consisting of a number of sets of separate chambers, like those of a college, opening on a quadrangle in the centre, and with one side occupied by the state apartments and chapel. This arrangement eminently suited the French suite, every one of whom liked to have his own little arrangements of cookery, and to look after his own marmite in his own way, all being alike horrified at the gross English diet and lack of vegetables. Many tried experiments in the way of growing salads in little gardens of their own, with little heed to the once beautiful green grass-plot which they broke up.
Inside that gate it was like a new country, and as all the shrill thin intonations of the French rang in her ears, Cicely could hardly believe that she had-she said-only a brick wall between her and old England.
M. de Salmonnet was unmistakably a Scot by descent, though he had never seen the land of his ancestors. His grandfather bad been ennobled, but only belonged to the lesser order of the noblesse, being exempted from imposts, but not being above employment, especially in diplomacy. He had acted as secretary, interpreter, and general factotum, to a whole succession of ambassadors, and thus his little loge, as he called it, had become something of a home. His wife had once or twice before had to take charge of young ladies, French or English, who were confided to the embassy, and she had a guest chamber for them, a small room, but with an oriel window overhanging the Thames and letting in the southern sun, so as almost to compensate for the bareness of the rest, where there was nothing but a square box-bed, a chest, and a few toilette essentials, to break upon the dulness of the dark wainscoted walls. Madame herself came to sleep with her guest, for lonely nights were regarded with dread in those times, and indeed she seemed to regard it as her duty never to lose sight of her charge for a moment.
Madame de Salmonnet's proper bed-chamber was the only approach to this little room, but that mattered the less as it was also the parlour! The bed, likewise a box, was in the far-off recesses, and the family were up and astir long before the November sun. Dressed Madame could scarcely be called-the costume in which she assisted Babette and queer wizened old Pierrot in doing the morning's work, horrified Cicely, used as she was to Mistress Susan's scrupulous neatness. Downstairs there was a sort of office room of Monsieur's, where the family meals were taken, and behind it an exceedingly small kitchen, where Madame and Pierrot performed marvels of cookery, surpassing those of Queen Mary's five cooks.
Cicely longed to assist in them, and after a slight demur, she was permitted to do so, chiefly because her duenna could not otherwise watch her and the confections at the same time. Cis could never make out whether it was as princess or simply as maiden that she was so closely watched, for Madame bristled and swelled like a mother cat about to spring at a strange dog, if any gentleman of the suite showed symptoms of accosting her. Nay, when Mr. Talbot once brought Diccon in with him, and there was a greeting, which to Cicely's mind was dismally cold and dry, the lady was so scandalised that Cicely was obliged formally to tell her that she would answer for it to the Queen. On Sunday, Mr. Talbot always came to take her to church, and this was a terrible grievance to Madame, though it was to Cicely the one refreshment of the week. If it had been only the being out of hearing of her hostess's incessant tongue, the walk would have been a refreshment. Madame de Salmonnet had been transported from home so young that she was far more French than Scottish; she was a small woman full of activity and zeal of all kinds, though perhaps most of all for her pot au feu. She was busied about her domestic affairs morning, noon, and night, and never ceased chattering the whole time, till Cicely began to regard the sound like the clack of the mill at Bridgefield. Yet, talker as she was, she was a safe woman, and never had been known to betray secrets. Indeed, much more of her conversation consisted of speculations on the tenderness of the poultry, or the freshness of the fish, than of anything that went much deeper. She did, however, spend much time in describing the habits and customs of the pensioners at Soissons; the maigre food they had to eat; their tricks upon the elder and graver nuns, and a good deal besides that was amusing at first, but which became rather wearisome, and made Cicely wonder what either of her mothers would have thought of it.