at Philip will plant it again
soon." This was the younger, and he looked at her out of the corner of
his innocent eye.

'Chris Hatton, fuming, meets and leads her into Brickwall Hall, where
she dances--thus. A woman can think while she dances--can think. I'll
show you. Watch!'

She took off her cloak slowly, and stood forth in dove-coloured satin,
worked over with pearls that trembled like running water in the running
shadows of the trees. Still talking--more to herself than to the
children--she swam into a majestical dance of the stateliest balancings,
the naughtiest wheelings and turnings aside, the most dignified
sinkings, the gravest risings, all joined together by the elaboratest
interlacing steps and circles. They leaned forward breathlessly to watch
the splendid acting.

'Would a Spaniard,' she began, looking on the ground, 'speak of his
revenge till his revenge were ripe? No. Yet a man who loved a woman
might threaten her 'in the hope that his threats would make her love
him. Such things have been.' She moved slowly across a bar of sunlight.
'A destruction from the West may signify that Philip means to descend on
Ireland. But then my Irish spies would have had some warning. The Irish
keep no secrets. No--it is not Ireland. Now why--why--why'--the red
shoes clicked and paused--'does Philip name Pedro Melendez de Avila,
a general in his Americas, unless'--she turned more quickly--unless he
intends to work his destruction from the Americas? Did he say De Avila
only to put her off her guard, or for this once has his black
pen betrayed his black heart? We'--she raised herself to her full
height--'England must forestall Master Philip. But not openly,'--she
sank again--'we cannot fight Spain openly--not yet--not yet.' She
stepped three paces as though she were pegging down some snare with her
twinkling shoe-buckles. 'The Queen's mad gentlemen may fight Philip's
poor admirals where they find 'em, but England, Gloriana, Harry's
daughter, must keep the peace. Perhaps, after all, Philip loves her--as
many men and boys do. That may help England. Oh, what shall help
England?'

She raised her head--the masked head that seemed to have nothing to do
with the busy feet--and stared straight at the children.

'I think this is rather creepy,' said Una with a shiver. 'I wish she'd
stop.'

The lady held out her jewelled hand as though she were taking some one
else's hand in the Grand Chain.

'Can a ship go down into the Gas