expecting from
the girl's demeanor to find ready answers to his inquiries.

"I cannot tell you, sir, of the nature of the first," answered Francis.
"I will gladly do so of the second."

"Relate it then."

"He was trying to make his escape when his design upon the queen became
known. He sprang upon me when I was unaware, seized the bridle of my
horse, and demanded that I give the animal to him."

"Which you refused?"

"Which I refused to do, sir."

"Did he recognize you?"

"Yes."

"And you him?"

"Yes, Sir Francis."

"Did you know that he was trying to escape from arrest?"

"Yes;" answered Francis again.

"Then why did you not let him have the horse?" queried Walsingham.

"Because I wished to reach my father," replied the girl simply.

"But why did you want to reach your father?" and the secretary bent
forward. "How knew you that he was in danger?"

"Why, I heard you tell the queen that you were going to arrest him, and I
wished to warn him."

"Thou heardst me tell the queen?" cried the minister in surprise. "Boy,
how couldst thou? We were in the queen's own chamber. How couldst thou
hear it?"

"I went there to seek a favor from Her Majesty, and awaited her coming
upon the balcony outside the window. When the queen entered, the
vice-chamberlain, Lord Burleigh, my Lord of Leicester, and yourself were
with her. I feared then to come into the room. Thus I could but hear all
that passed. When I found that my father was in danger I left the balcony
and the palace as quickly, determined to warn him of his peril."

"Then you knew that he was concerned in the plot to kill the queen?" and
Walsingham eyed her keenly.

"He was not," cried the girl eagerly.

"Then why should he flee?" asked the merciless inquisitor. "No peer of
the realm hath aught to fear if he be innocent of foul design."

Francis was so disconcerted by this question that she did not attempt to
reply, but looked at him hopelessly.

The wily minister saw her confusion and pressed his advantage.

"Thou needest not to answer, boy, on the condition that thou tell to me
all that passed the first time that you saw Babington."

"I cannot do that, sir."

"'Twill be the better for thee," warned the secretary. "We have knowledge
that thou and thy father did meet with Babington at an inn in Salisbury.
For thine own sake, thou wouldst best reveal what took place. Reflect!
Thine own safety depends upon it."

"I will not tell, Sir Francis," r