e an thou lovest me," replied Babington. "Mary's
sufferings cry aloud for vengeance. Sleeping or waking her wrongs are
before me. My lord, she is a prisoner; made to submit to privations that
even the basest criminals do not undergo. Couldst thou have seen her at
Tutbury or Wingfield as I have done, you would wonder no longer that
deeds of blood suggest themselves."

"Anthony, thou art mad," exclaimed Lord Stafford compassionately.

"Mad! nay; but Mary Stuart hath languished too long in her chains. I
would dare anything to release her from them."

"And so would we all who love and reverence her as the true heiress of
England's crown, Anthony. Yet I fear that thou dost meditate wrong to
Elizabeth, but surely thou wouldst not raise thy hand against a woman?"

"Ay, my lord! Against a woman, or what not for Mary's sake."

"But Mary would not approve such measure."

"No; therefore do we only contemplate her rescue. The softness of her
heart doth prevent other aims."

"Anthony," said Lord Stafford preparing to renew his journey, "I see that
thou art ripe for some foolhardy enterprise. I misdoubt thy loyalty to
Elizabeth, and fear that thou wilt soon engage in mischief. Had I not
pledged mine honor to take these letters to Mary I would have naught to
do with the matter. Thou hast raised grave doubts as to the nature of
this undertaking. I fear for thee, for myself and family, and most of all
do I fear for Mary Stuart. Thou knowest how eagerly Walsingham watches
for an excuse to compass her death. Remember that, Anthony, and by the
love you bear to her, forego the thoughts that charge thy brain."

"Fear naught, my lord. Thy doubts carry thee farther than the issue
warrants," said Babington lightly.

"I bid you farewell, Anthony, but my heart is heavy with foreboding," and
Lord Stafford embraced him. "Would that I had known all this ere mine
honor had become involved."

"Be of good cheer. You lay too much stress upon the matter," and the
young man returned his embrace. "Farewell."

"Fare you well." Lord Stafford proceeded to the courtyard followed by
Francis. When the girl would have ridden behind him, he motioned her
silently to come beside him. Wonderingly she obeyed, for not thus were
pages wont to travel with their lords.

"My child," said Lord Stafford when they had left the tavern behind and
were on the old Roman road to Bath, "I have done ill in embarking upon
this emprise, and more than ill in engaging thee