eny it, girl. One hath been here from the court. I know
that every incident of the journey to Chartley, even to the meeting with
Babington at Salisbury, is known to the queen. Who knew all this but
thee? Fool that I was to confide in thee! But thou wert so cock-sure of
thy ability! So apt and froward with thy promises, that I believed in
thee."

"My father, if there are those who say that I betrayed thee, they speak
not the truth. I have come to warn thee of peril. Even now the
pursuivants are on their way to take thee. Oh, sir! tarry no longer but
fly. 'Tis death to be taken, father. Death!"

She wrung her hands as her father stood there so unheedingly when time
was so precious.

"And if it be death, by whose hand hath it been wrought? Why hast thou
dallied at court so long? Why dost thou still wear that garb which shames
thy modesty?"

"Father, hear me," cried Francis, flinging herself at his feet. "If ever
thou didst bear aught of affection to her that kneels to thee, believe me
when I say that I betrayed thee not. May my tongue be palsied if I speak
not the truth. Father, by all the saints, I----"

"False girl, perjure not thy soul," and he strove to release himself from
her grasp. "Unclasp thine arms, Francis Stafford, and hearken to a
father's curse. May----"

"Hold, my lord!" shrieked Lady Stafford. "Curse not thy child! Curse not
thine own flesh and blood!"

"No child is she of mine, madam. Rather do I believe her some changeling
forced upon us by witches' craft. Never did Stafford betray trust before!
Stay me not! Whether child or changeling yet still shall she be cursed."

"Father, father, I am innocent of having done this monstrous, wicked
thing! 'Twas Anthony Babington that hath so maliciously spoken about me!
I know----"

"How know you that 'twas Babington?" demanded her father quickly. "Girl,
thine own words condemn thee. Say no more! I will listen to thy false
words no longer. I curse the day that thou wast born. I curse thee----"

"Forbear," shrieked the girl in agonized tones. "O, father, withhold thy
curse! Hear me for the love of mercy."

But Lord Stafford tore himself from her clinging hands, and hastily left
the room.

"Father," cried Francis, darting after him. "Father!"

He heeded her not, but strode out of the castle to the place where old
Brooks held his horse.

"Father, father!" The frantic girl reached him as he mounted his steed
and held out her arms entreatingly. But the fa