yas! Amyas!" quoth Frank, solemnly, "you know not what power over the
soul has the native and God-given majesty of royalty (awful enough in
itself) when to it is superadded the wisdom of the sage, and therewithal
the tenderness of the woman. Had I my will, there should be in every
realm not a salique, but an anti-salique law: whereby no kings, but only
queens should rule mankind. Then would weakness and not power be to man
the symbol of divinity; love, and not cunning, would be the arbiter of
every cause; and chivalry, not fear, the spring of all obedience."

"Humph! There's some sense in that," quoth Amyas. "I'd run a mile for
a woman when I would not walk a yard for a man; and--Who is this our
mother is bringing in? The handsomest fellow I ever saw in my life!"

Amyas was not far wrong; for Mrs. Leigh's companion was none other than
Mr. Secretary, Amyas's Smerwick Fort acquaintance; alias Colin Clout,
alias Immerito, alias Edmund Spenser. Some half-jesting conversation had
seemingly been passing between the poet and the saint; for as they came
in she said with a smile (which was somewhat of a forced one)--"Well,
my dear sons, you are sure of immortality, at least on earth; for Mr.
Spenser has been vowing to me to give your adventure a whole canto to
itself in his 'Faerie Queene'."

"And you no less, madam," said Spenser. "What were the story of the
Gracchi worth without the figure of Cornelia? If I honor the fruit, I
must not forget the stem which bears it. Frank, I congratulate you."

"Then you know the result of my interview, mother?"

"I know everything, and am content," said Mrs. Leigh.

"Mrs. Leigh has reason to be content," said Spenser, "with that which is
but her own likeness."

Spare your flattery to an old woman, Mr. Spenser. When, pray, did I"
(with a most loving look at Frank) "refuse knighthood for duty's sake?"

"Knighthood?" cried Amyas. "You never told me that, Frank!"

"That may well be, Captain Leigh," said Spenser; "but believe me, her
majesty (so Hatton assures me) told him this day, no less than that by
going on this quest he deprived himself of that highest earthly honor,
which crowned heads are fain to seek from their own subjects."

Spenser did not exaggerate. Knighthood was then the prize of merit only;
and one so valuable, that Elizabeth herself said, when asked why she did
not bestow a peerage upon some favorite, that having already knighted
him, she had nothing better to bestow. It