ng the
above colloquy. "And may I ask, young sir, what business thou hast with
Mary?"

"Why, why," stammered Francis abashed by his harsh address and rude
bearing. "I have no business. I only wished to see the queen."

"Queen forsooth! Of what is she queen?" asked the other brusquely. "Of
nothing, I trow. Not even is she mistress of her own actions. Queen
forsooth!"

"Thou speakest truly, Paulet," said the lady mildly. "Yet methinks it not
becoming in thee to taunt Mary Stuart with the miserable state to which
she hath been reduced. Boy, thou didst wish to see Mary. I am she."

"Mary? Art thou in truth Queen Mary?" Francis exclaimed rapturously, and
seeing the assenting smile on the lady's face she darted to her side and
seizing her hand she kissed it fervently. "Oh," she cried, "if thou art
Mary, know that mistress of thy actions thou mayst not be, but thou dost
reign in truth a queen over this poor heart."

The dark eyes of Mary Stuart filled with tears and she pressed the girl's
hand tenderly.

"Such homage is sweet to the poor captive, my lad. It gladdens our heart
to know that there are some who still hold Mary in reverence. Take this
and wear in remembrance of her who is grateful for even the homage of a
page."

She drew from her neck a chain of gold to which was attached a locket
which she threw over the girl's head. With an exclamation of delight
Francis pressed it to her lips passionately.

"It shall never leave me while life lasts," she declared. "But may I not
wait upon you at your castle, Your Highness? I would be of service to
you."

Her eyes sought the lady's with a meaning look that Mary was quick to
catch.

"Nay;" broke in Sir Amyas Paulet for the gruff old puritan was very
rigid with his illustrious captive. "Thou hast had thy wish, boy, and
obtained what was doubtless thy object: a chain for a kiss, a locket for
an obeisance. It pays to give court to reduced royalty. Away with thee,
and let me not see thy face at Chartley, else thou shalt meet a gruff
reception."

"Then farewell." Francis drew as close to the lady's side as she could.
"There are letters," she whispered.

"Away!" Sir Amyas laid a hand upon the bridle of Mary's horse and turned
the animal from the girl. "I will have no whisperings. Away, boy!"

"Be not overcome, my pretty lad," and Mary drew rein despite the protests
of her uncivil guardian. "We thank thee for thy homage, and hope to see
thee again when we journey forth