of the
tournament, and whether Mr Sidney had won fresh laurels, and if the Queen
was really going to wed with a Popish prince. This was what the Papists
built their hopes upon, and then it would be their turn to trample on the
Protestants.

As Humphrey rode through Penshurst, the village was wrapt in profound
repose, for in those times people went to bed and rose with the sun.
Artificial light was scarcely known in the farms and homesteads of country
districts, and there was only one twinkling light in the window of the
hostel in the street to show belated travellers that if they desired
shelter and rest they might find it there.

Humphrey rode slowly as he got nearer his destination, feeling reluctance
to be the bearer of no good news to one, who he knew was eagerly looking
for him.

The waters of the little Medway were low, for the season had been unusually
dry, and Humphrey's horse knew the ford well, and easily stepped over it,
his hoofs making a dull splash in the rippling stream.

The stars were bright overhead and a crescent moon gave a silvery light.
The stillness was profound. At the entrance of the lane leading to Ford
Manor the horse stopped short; he evidently wanted to go to his own stable
on the crest of the hill.

In that momentary pause Humphrey turned in the saddle, and, looking back,
saw the dark outline of the grand old home of the Sidneys and the dark
masses of the stately trees which surround it, clear cut against the sky,
in which the moon hung like a silver lamp.

The peace which reigned seemed to strike him as a sharp contrast with the
turmoil and noise of the city he had lately left. The Court, so full of
heart-burnings and jealousies and strivings to win a higher place in the
favour of those who were in favour with the Queen. The image of him who
was, perhaps, at that time Elizabeth's chief favourite rose before him, and
he thought how far happier he would be to live, apart from Court favour and
rivalries, in the stately home which was the pride, not only of the Sidneys
themselves, but of everyone of their tenants and dependents on their
wide-stretching domain. For Humphrey could not hide from himself that his
chief was often sad at heart, and that sometimes, in uncontrollable
weariness, he would say that he would fain lead a retired life in his
beloved Penshurst. His moods were, it is true, variable, and at times he
was the centre of everything that was bright and gay at Court, sought a