at more than one enamoured courtier made essay to engage
her in conversation, and paid her deferential compliment when the
Queen's eyes were not turned her way. Come to the dais, she was placed
not far from her Majesty, beside the Duke's Daughter, whose whimsical
nature found frequent expression in what the Queen was wont to call "a
merry volt." She seemed a privileged person, with whom none ventured to
take liberties, and against whom none was entitled to bear offence, for
her quips were free from malice, and her ingenuity in humour of mark.
She it was who had put into the Queen's head that morning an idea which
was presently to startle Angele and all others.

Leicester was riding with the Knights Tilters, and as they cantered
lightly past the dais, trailing their spears in obeisance, Elizabeth
engaged herself in talk with Cecil, who was standing near, and appeared
not to see the favourite. This was the first time since he had mounted
to good fortune that she had not thrown him a favour to pick up with his
spear and wear in her honour, and he could scarce believe that she
had meant to neglect him. He half halted, but she only deigned an
inclination of the head, and he spurred his horse angrily on with a
muttered imprecation, yet, to all seeming, gallantly paying homage.

"There shall be doings ere this day is done. 'Beware the Gipsy'!" said
the Duke's Daughter in a low tone to Angele, and she laughed lightly.

"Who is the Gipsy?" asked Angele, with good suspicion, however.

"Who but Leicester," answered the other. "Is he not black enough?"

"Why was he so called? Who put the name upon Who but the Earl of Sussex
as he died--as noble a chief, as true a counsellor as ever spoke truth
to a Queen. But truth is not all at Court, and Sussex was no flatterer.
Leicester bowed under the storm for a moment when Sussex showed him in
his true colours; but Sussex had no gift of intrigue, the tide turned,
and so he broke his heart, and died. But he left a message which I
sometimes remember with my collects. 'I am now passing to another
world,' said he, 'and must leave you to your fortunes and to the Queen's
grace and goodness; but beware the Gipsy, for he will be too hard for
all of you; you know not the beast so well as I do.' But my Lord Sussex
was wrong. One there is who knows him through and through, and hath
little joy in the knowing."

The look in the eyes of the Duke's Daughter became like steel and her
voice hardened, an