VII

THE ESCAPE

Frequently after this Francis saw Edward Devereaux in the garden, but she
preserved such a distant demeanor toward him that the youth did not dare
to address her.

"Fie upon thee, lady bird," chided Mrs. Shelton. "Is it thus that thou
dost requite such favor? Thou dost not deserve to be remembered."

"But I thought that the gifts came from Lord Shrope," said Francis. "And
they are from mine enemy."

"But they served the self-same purpose, chuck, as if they were in truth
from him. Did they not rouse thee from thy depression? I tell thee that I
have been long in these grim walls, and I have seen men of high degree
forgotten and forsaken by friends. They have remained here years without
one token from without. Thou hast been favored to no small extent, and
now thou dost repine and will not touch thy guitar because, forsooth,
'twas sent thee by 'thine enemy.' Marry! Pray Heaven send me such
enemies!"

"It may be that I have been somewhat ungracious," said Francis
penitently. "If thou wilt permit, good mistress, I will tell the lad so.
But I wish it had been my Lord Shrope."

"Out upon thee for such a wish, child! Marry! to desire to be remembered
by an old man rather than by a young, handsome----" she laughed and added
slyly, "enemy. Were he not in the queen's favor thou couldst not have
liberty to speak with him, and thou art foolish to let slip such
opportunity for converse. The queen may repent her of his imprisonment at
any time, and then thou mayst never see another to hold communion with."

"Am I always to stay here, Mrs. Shelton?" asked Francis wistfully.
"Though in truth were I to be freed I would not know where to go. Still
'tis hard to be shut up within this dreary place."

"I know not, child."

"Why have I not been brought to trial?" continued the girl, "Others were
tried and sentenced and met their doom, while I linger on, not knowing
what my fate is to be."

"I know not," answered Mrs. Shelton again. "Question it not, girl. There
are those here who have lain for years in like uncertainty, and will so
wait until death releases them."

"And their lot will be mine," observed the maiden mournfully. "Happy were
they who met death on the block! I am so young and so strong. 'Twill be
long ere the tomb claims me. And to look forward to all those years--oh,
'tis hard, hard!" She paused for a time, and then went on pathetically:
"I dreamed of the fens and the wildwood last night, mistres