oled?' she asked cruelly.

He ran his finger round the rim of his cap where it lay on the floor
beside him.

'That he is gaoled, I know,' he said; 'but the wherefore of it, not.'

He looked down at the floor and she down at his drooped eyelids.

'God help you,' she uttered scornfully. 'You are a spy and yet know no
more than a Queen's daughter.'

'God help me,' he repeated gravely and touched his eyelid with one
finger. 'What passed, passed between the King and him. I know no more
than common report.'

'Common report?' she said. 'I warrant thee thou wast slinking around the
terrace. I warrant thee thou heardst words of the King's mouth. I
warrant thee thou followedst here to hear at my doorhole how I might
take this adventure.'

One of his eyelids moved delicately, but he said no word. The Lady Mary
turned her back on him and he expected her order to be gone. But she
turned again--

'Common report?' she uttered once more. 'I do bid you give me the common
report upon this, that the Queen sends to me every day this little
Prince to be alone with me two hours.'

He winced with his eyebrows again.

'Out with the common report,' she said.

'Madam,' he uttered, 'it is usually commended that the Queen should seek
to bring sister and Prince-brother together.'

She shrugged her stiff shoulders up to her ears.

'What a poor liar for a spy,' she said. 'It is more usually
reported'--and she turned upon the little Prince--'that the Queen sends
thee here that I may work thee a mischief so that thou die and her child
reign after the King thy father.'

The little Prince looked at her with pensive eyes. At that moment
Katharine Howard came to the room door and looked in.

'Body of God,' the Lady Mary said; 'here you spy out a spy committing
treason. For it is still treason to kneel to me. I am of illegal birth
and not of the blood royal.'

Katharine essayed her smile upon the black-avised girl.

'Give me leave,' she said.

'Your Grace's poor room,' Mary said, 'is open ever to your Grace's
entry. _Ubi venis ibi tibi._'

The Queen bade her waiting women go. She entered the room and looked at
Lascelles.

'I think I know thy face,' she said.

'I am the Archbishop's poor gentleman,' he answered. 'I think you have
seen me.'

'No. It is not that,' she said. 'It was long ago.'

She crossed the room to smell at the pinks in the window.

'How late the flowers grow,' she said. 'It is August, yet here are still
vern