beth gazed at the girl coldly and critically. To women she was not
over-amiable; but as she looked at the young Huguenot maid, of this
calm bearing, warm of colour, clear of eye, and purposeful of face, some
thing kindled in her. Most like it was that love for a cause, which was
more to be encouraged by her than any woman's love for a man, which as
she grew older inspired her with aversion, as talk of marriage brought
cynical allusions to her lips.

"I have your letter and its protests and its pleadings. There were fine
words and adjurations--are you so religious, then?" she asked brusquely.

"I am a Huguenot, your noble Majesty," answered the girl, as though that
answered all.

"How is it, then, you are betrothed to a roistering soldier?" asked the
Queen.

"Some must pray for Christ's sake, and some must fight, your most
christian Majesty," answered the girl. "Some must do both," rejoined the
Queen, in a kinder voice, for the pure spirit of the girl worked upon
her. "I am told that Monsieur de la Foret fights fairly. If he can pray
as well, methinks he shall have safety in our kingdom, and ye shall all
have peace. On Trinity Sunday you shall preach in my chapel, Monsieur de
la Foret, and thereafter you shall know your fate."

She rose. "My Lord," she said to Leicester, on whose face gloom had
settled, "you will tell the Lord Chamberlain that Monsieur de la Foret's
durance must be made comfortable in the west tower of my palace till
chapel-going of Trinity Day. I will send him for his comfort and
instruction some sermons of Latimer."

She stepped down from the dais. "You will come with me, mistress," she
said to Angele, and reached out her hand.

Angele fell on her knees and kissed it, tears falling down her cheek,
then rose and followed the Queen from the chamber. She greatly desired
to look backward towards De la Foret, but some good angel bade her not.
She realised that to offend the Queen at this moment might ruin all;
and Elizabeth herself was little like to offer chance for farewell and
love-tokens.

So it was that, with bowed head, Angele left the room with the Queen of
England, leaving Lempriere and De la Foret gazing at each other, the
one bewildered, the other lost in painful reverie, and Leicester smiling
maliciously at them both.

CHAPTER X

Every man, if you bring him to the right point, if you touch him in the
corner where he is most sensitive, where he most lives, as it were; if
you pri