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"While he loved you it would," said Humfrey hastily. "Yea," as she lifted up her eyes to him, "it would so, as my father will tell you, because he could not truly love that other woman."

Richard smiled sadly, and could not but assent to his son's honest truth and faith.

"Then," said Cis, with the, same straightforwardness, sprung of their old fraternal intercourse, "you must quit all love for me save a brother's, Humfrey; for my Queen mother made me give her my word on my duty never to wed you."

"I know," returned Humfrey calmly. "I have known all that these two years; but what has that to do with my love?"

"Come, come, children," said Richard, hardening himself though his eyes were moist; "I did not come here to hear you two discourse like the folks in a pastoral! We may not waste time. Tell me, child, if thou be not forbidden, hath she any purpose for thee?"

"O sir, I fear that what she would most desire is to bestow me abroad with some of her kindred of Lorraine. But I mean to strive hard against it, and pray her earnestly. And, father, I have one great purpose. She saith that these cruel statesmen, who are all below in this castle, have hindered Queen Elizabeth from ever truly hearing and knowing all, and from speaking with her as woman to woman. Father, I will go to London, I will make my way to the Queen, and when she hears who I am-of her own blood and kindred-she must listen to me; and I will tell her what my mother Queen really is, and how cruelly she has been played upon, and entreat of her to see her face to face and talk with her, and judge whether she can have done all she is accused of."

"Thou art a brave maiden, Cis," exclaimed Humfrey with deep feeling.

"Will you take me, sir?" said Cicely, looking up to Master Richard.

"Child, I cannot say at once. It is a perilous purpose, and requires much to be thought over."

"But you will aid me?" she said earnestly.

"If it be thy duty, woe be to me if I gainsay thee," said Richard; "but there is no need to decide as yet. We must await the issue of this trial, if the trial ever take place."

"Will Cavendish saith," put in Humfrey, "that a trial there will be of some sort, whether the Lady consent to plead or not."

"Until that is ended we can do nothing," said his father. "Meantime, Cicely child, we shall be here at hand, and be sure that I will not be slack to aid thee in what may be thy duty as a daughter. So rest thee in that, my wench, and pray that we may be led to know the right."

And Richard spoke as a man of high moral courage in making this promise, well knowing that it might involve himself in great danger. The worst that could befall Cicely might be imprisonment, and a life of constraint, jealously watched; but his own long concealment of her birth might easily be construed into treason, and the horrible consequences of such an accusation were only too fresh in his memory. Yet, as he said afterwards to his son, "There was no forbidding the maiden to do her utmost for her own mother, neither was there any letting her run the risk alone."

To which Humfrey heartily responded.

"The Queen may forbid her, or the purpose may pass away," added Richard, "or it may be clearly useless and impossible to make the attempt; but I cannot as a Christian man strive to dissuade her from doing what she can. And as thou saidst, Humfrey, she is changed. She hath borne her modestly and discreetly, ay and truly, through all. The childishness is gone out of her, and I mark no lightness of purpose in her."

On that afternoon Queen Mary announced that she had yielded to Hatton's representations so far as to consent to appear before the Commissioners, provided her protest against the proceedings were put on record.

"Nay, blame me not, good Melville," she said. "I am wearied out with their arguments. What matters it how they do the deed on which they are bent? It was an ill thing when King Harry the Eighth brought in this fashion of forcing the law to give a colour to his will! In the good old times, the blow came without being first baited by one and another, and made a spectacle to all men, in the name of justice, forsooth!"

Mary Seaton faltered something of her Majesty's innocence shining out like the light of day.

"Flatter not thyself so far, ma mie," said Mary. "Were mine innocence clearer than the sun they would blacken it. All that can come of this same trial is that I may speak to posterity, if they stifle my voice here, and so be known to have died a martyr to my faith. Get we to our prayers, girls, rather than feed on vain hopes. De profundis clamavi."

CHAPTER XXXV. BEFORE THE COMMISSIONERS.

Who would be permitted to witness the trial? As small matters at hand eclipse great matters farther off, this formed the immediate excitement in Queen Mary's little household, when it was disclosed that she was to appear only attended by Sir Andrew Melville and her two Maries before her judges.

The vast hall had space enough on the ground for numerous spectators, and a small gallery intended for musicians was granted, with some reluctance, to the ladies and gentlemen of the suite, who, as Sir Amias Paulett observed, could do no hurt, if secluded there. Thither then they proceeded, and to Cicely's no small delight, found Humfrey awaiting them there, partly as a guard, partly as a master of the ceremonies, ready to explain the arrangements, and tell the names of the personages who appeared in sight.

"There," said he, "close below us, where you cannot see it, is the chair with a cloth of state over it."

"For our Queen?" asked Jean Kennedy.

"No, madam. It is there to represent the Majesty of Queen Elizabeth. That other chair, half-way down the hall, with the canopy from the beam over it, is for the Queen of Scots."

Jean Kennedy sniffed the air a little at this, but her attention was directed to the gentlemen who began to fill the seats on either side. Some of them had before had interviews with Queen Mary, and thus were known by sight to her own attendants; some had been seen by Humfrey during his visit to London; and even now at a great distance, and a different table, he had been taking his meals with them at the present juncture.

The seats were long benches against the wall, for the Earls on one side, the Barons on the other. The Lord Chancellor Bromley, in his red and white gown, and Burghley, the Lord Treasurer, with long white beard and hard impenetrable face, sat with them.

"That a man should have such a beard, and yet dare to speak to the Queen as he did two days ago," whispered Cis.

"See," said Mrs. Kennedy, "who is that burly figure with the black eyes and grizzled beard?"

"That, madam," said Humfrey, "is the Earl of Warwick."

"The brother of the minion Leicester?" said Jean Kennedy. "He hath scant show of his comeliness."

"Nay; they say he is become the best favoured," said Humfrey; "my Lord of Leicester being grown heavy and red-faced. He is away in the Netherlands, or you might judge of him."

"And who," asked the lady, "may be yon, with the strangely-plumed hat and long, yellow hair, like a half-tamed Borderer?"

"He?" said Humfrey. "He is my Lord of Cumberland. I marvelled to see him back so soon. He is here, there, and everywhere; and when I was in London was commanding a fleet bearing victuals to relieve the Dutch in Helvoetsluys. Had I not other work in hand, I would gladly sail with him, though there be something fantastic in his humour. But here come the Knights of the Privy Council, who are to my mind more noteworthy than the Earls."

The seats of these knights were placed a little below and beyond those of the noblemen. The courteous Sir Ralf Sadler looked up and saluted the ladies in the gallery as he entered. "He was always kindly," said Jean Kennedy, as she returned the bow. "I am glad to see him here."

"But oh, Humfrey!" cried Cicely, "who is yonder, with the short cloak standing on end with pearls, and the quilted satin waistcoat, jewelled ears, and frizzed head? He looks fitter to lead off a dance than a trial."

"He is Sir Christopher Hatton, her Majesty's Vice-Chamberlain," replied Humfrey.