ers to be a command from my queen."

Elizabeth was a strange combination of paradoxes. No one could be truer
than she to a fixed determination once taken. No one could be swayed by
doubt so easily as she to change her mind sixty times in the space of a
minute. During one moment she was minded to liberate John and Lord
Rutland; in the next she determined to hold them in prison, hoping to
learn from them some substantial fact concerning the plot which, since
Mary's arrival in England, had become a nightmare to her. But, with all
her vagaries the Virgin Queen surely loved justice. That quality, alone,
makes a sovereign great. Elizabeth, like her mother, Anne Boleyn, had
great faith in her personal beauty; like her father, she had unbounded
confidence in her powers of mind. She took great pride in the ease with
which she controlled persons. She believed that no one was so adroit as
Elizabeth Tudor in extracting secrets from others, and in unravelling
mysterious situations, nor so cunning in hunting out plots and in running
down plotters. In all such matters she delighted to act secretly and
alone.

During the numerous councils held at Haddon, Elizabeth allowed Cecil to
question John to his heart's content; but while she listened she
formulated a plan of her own which she was sure would be effective in
extracting all the truth from John, if all the truth had not already been
extracted. Elizabeth kept her cherished plan to herself. It was this:--

She would visit Dorothy, whom she knew to be ill, and would by her subtle
art steal from John's sweetheart all that the girl knew of the case. If
John had told Dorothy part of the affair concerning Mary Stuart, he had
probably told her all, and Elizabeth felt confident that she could easily
pump the girl dry. She did not know Dorothy. Accordingly our queen,
Elizabeth, the adroit, went to Dorothy's room under the pretence of paying
the girl a gracious visit. Dorothy wished to arise and receive her royal
guest, but Elizabeth said gently:--

"Do not arise, Dorothy; rest quietly, and I will sit here beside you on
the bed. I have come to tell you that you must recover your health at
once. We miss you greatly in the Hall."

No one could be more gracious than Elizabeth when the humor was upon her;
though, in truth, the humor was often lacking.

"Let us send all save you and me from the room," said the queen, "that we
may have a quiet little chat together."

All who were in the room