The excuse for all this was to enable the maiden to make her appearance before Queen Elizabeth as freshly brought from Soissons by her mother's danger. Mary herself had suggested this, as removing all danger from the Talbots, and as making it easier for the French Embassy to claim and protect Cis herself; and M. de Chateauneuf had so far acquiesced as to desire Madame de Salmonnet to see whether the young lady could be prepared to assume the character before eyes that would not be over qualified to judge. Cis, however, had always been passive when the proposal was made, and the more she heard from Madame de Salmonnet, the more averse she was to it. The only consideration that seemed to her in its favour was the avoidance of implicating her foster-father, but a Sunday morning spent with him removed the scruple.
"I know I cannot feign," she said. "They all used to laugh at me at Chartley for being too much of the downright mastiff to act a part."
"I am right glad to hear it," said Richard.
"Moreover," added Cicely, "if I did try to turn my words with the Scottish or French ring, I wot that the sight of the Queen's Majesty and my anxiety would drive out from me all I should strive to remember, and I should falter and utter mere folly; and if she saw I was deceiving her, there would be no hope at all. Nay, how could I ask God Almighty to bless my doing with a lie in my mouth?"
"There spake my Susan's own maid," said Richard. "'Tis the joy of my heart that they have not been able to teach thee to lie with a good grace. Trust my word, my wench, truth is the only wisdom, and one would have thought they might have learnt it by this time."
"I only doubted, lest it should be to your damage, dear father. Can they call it treason?"
"I trow not, my child. The worst that could hap would be that I might be lodged in prison a while, or have to pay a fine; and liefer, far liefer, would I undergo the like than that those lips of thine should learn guile. I say not that there is safety for any of us, least of all for thee, my poor maid, but the danger is tenfold increased by trying to deceive; and, moreover, it cannot be met with a good conscience."
"Moreover," said Cicely, "I have pleadings and promises to make on my mother-queen's behalf that would come strangely amiss if I had to feign that I had never seen her! May I not seek the Queen at once, without waiting for this French gentleman? Then would this weary, weary time be at an end! Each time I hear a bell, or a cannon shot, I start and think, Oh! has she signed the warrant? Is it too late?"
"There is no fear of that," said Richard; "I shall know from Will Cavendish the instant aught is done, and through Diccon I could get thee brought to the Queen's very chamber in time to plead. Meantime, the Queen is in many minds. She cannot bear to give up her kinswoman; she sits apart and mutters, 'Aut fer aut feri,' and 'Ne feriare feri.' Her ladies say she tosses and sighs all night, and hath once or twice awoke shrieking that she was covered with blood. It is Burghley and Walsingham who are forcing this on, and not her free will. Strengthen but her better will, and let her feel herself secure, and she will spare, and gladly."
"That do I hope to do," said Cicely, encouraged. The poor girl had to endure many a vicissitude and heart-sinking before M. de Bellievre appeared; and when he did come, he was a disappointment.
He was a most magnificent specimen of the mignons of Henri's court. The Embassy rang with stories of the number of mails he had brought, of the milk baths he sent for, the gloves he slept in, the valets who tweaked out superfluous hairs from his eyebrows, the delicacies required for his little dogs.
M. de Salmonnet reported that on hearing the story of "Mademoiselle," as Cicely was called in the Embassy, he had twirled the waxed ends of his moustaches into a satirical twist, and observed, "That is well found, and may serve as a last resource."
He never would say that he disbelieved what he was told of her; and when presented to her, he behaved with an exaggerated deference which angered her intensely, for it seemed to her mockery of her pretensions. No doubt his desire was that Mary's life should be granted to the intercession of his king rather than to any other consideration; and therefore once, twice, thrice, he had interviews with Elizabeth, and still he would not take the anxious suppliant, who was in an agony at each disappointment, as she watched the gay barge float down the river, and who began to devise setting forth alone, to seek the Queen at Richmond and end it all! She would have done so, but that Diccon told her that since the alarm caused by Barnwell, it had become so much more difficult to approach the Queen that she would have no hope.
But she was in a restless state that made Madame de Salmonnet's chatter almost distracting, when at last, far on in January, M. de Salmonnet came in.
"Well, mademoiselle, the moment is come. The passports are granted, but Monsieur the Ambassador Extraordinary has asked for a last private audience, and he prays your Highness to be ready to accompany him at nine of the clock to-morrow morning."
Cicely's first thought was to send tidings to Mr. Talbot, and in this M. de Salmonnet assisted her, though his wife thought it very superfluous to drag in the great, dull, heavy, English sailor. The girl longed for a sight and speech of him all that evening in vain, though she was sure she saw the Mastiff's boat pass down the river, and most earnestly did she wish she could have had her chamber to herself for the prayers and preparations, on which Madame's tongue broke so intolerably that she felt as if she should ere long be wild and senseless, and unable to recollect anything.
She had only a little peace when Madame rose early in the morning and left her, thinking her asleep, for a brief interval, which gave her time to rally her thoughts and commend herself to her only Guide.
She let Madame dress her, as had been determined, in perfectly plain black, with a cap that would have suited "a novice out of convent shade." It was certainly the most suitable garb for a petitioner for her mother's life. In her hand she took the Queen's letter, and the most essential proofs of her birth. She was cloaked and hooded over all as warmly as possible to encounter the cold of the river: and Madame de Salmonnet, sighing deeply at the cold, arranged herself to chaperon her, and tried to make her fortify herself with food, but she was too tremulous to swallow anything but a little bread and wine. Poor child! She felt frightfully alone amongst all those foreign tongues, above all when the two ambassadors crossed the court to M. de Salmonnet's little door. Bellievre, rolled up in splendid sables from head to foot, bowed down to the ground before her, almost sweeping the pavement with his plume, and asked in his deferential voice of mockery if her Royal Highness would do him the honour of accepting his escort.
Cicely bent her head and said in French, "I thank you, sir," giving him her hand; and there was a grave dignity in the action that repressed him, so that he did not speak again as he led her to the barge, which was covered in at the stern so as to afford a shelter from the wind.
Her quick eye detected the Mastiff's boat as she was handed down the stairs, and this was some relief, while she was placed in the seat of honour, with an ambassador on each side of her.