ce with her was most
opportune, for the news she must presently receive, brought by a
messenger from Scotland who had outstripped all others, would no doubt
move her to action which should set the minds of the people at rest, and
go far to stem the tide of conspiracy flowing through the kingdom.

Elizabeth stood watching them, and remained gazing after they had
disappeared; then rousing herself, she turned to leave the room, and
beckoned to Angele to follow.

CHAPTER XII

As twilight was giving place to night Angele was roused from the reverie
into which she had fallen, by the Duke's Daughter, who whispered to
her that if she would have a pleasure given to but few, she would come
quickly. Taking her hand the Duke's Daughter--as true and whimsical
a spirit as ever lived in troubled days and under the aegis of the
sword-led her swiftly to the Queen's chamber. They did not enter, but
waited in a quiet gallery.

"The Queen is playing upon the virginals, and she playeth best when
alone; so stand you here by this tapestry, and you shall have pleasure
beyond payment," said the Duke's Daughter.

Angele had no thought that the Queen of her vanity had commanded that
she be placed there as though secretly, and she listened dutifully
at first; but presently her ears were ravished; and even the Duke's
Daughter showed some surprise, for never had she heard the Queen play
with such grace and feeling. The countenance of the musician was towards
them, and at last, as though by accident, Elizabeth looked up and saw
the face of her lady.

"Spy, spy," she cried. "Come hither--come hither, all of you!"

When they had descended and knelt to her, she made as if she would
punish the Duke's Daughter by striking her with a scarf that lay at her
hand, but to Angele she said:

"How think you then, hath that other greater skill--Darnley's wife I
mean?"

"Not she or any other hath so delighted me," said Angele, with worship
in her eyes--so doth talent given to majesty become lifted beyond its
measure.

The Queen's eyes lighted. "We shall have dancing, then," she said. "The
dance hath charms for me. We shall not deny our youth. The heart shall
keep as young as the body."

An instant later the room was full of dancers, and Elizabeth gave her
hand to Leicester, who bent every faculty to pleasing her. His face had
darkened as he had seen Angele beside her, but the Queen's graciousness,
whether assumed or real, had returned, and her