est duty, and no Caskoden ever failed in that. I may
not be as tall as some men, but my fidelity and honor--but you will
say I boast.

I was to make ready my bundle and ride six miles to London in one
hour; and almost half that time was spent already. I was sure to be
late, so I could not waste another minute.

I went to my room and got together a few things necessary for my
journey, but did not take much in the way of clothing, preferring to
buy that new in Paris, where I could find the latest styles in pattern
and fabric.

I tried to assure myself that Mary would see the king at once and tell
him all, and not allow my dear friend Brandon to lie in that terrible
place another night; yet a persistent fear gnawed at my heart, and a
sort of intuition, that seemed to have the very breath of certainty
in its foreboding, made me doubt her.

As I could find neither Mary nor Jane, I did the next best thing: I
wrote a letter to each of them, urging immediate action, and left them
to be delivered by my man Thomas, who was one of those trusty souls
that never fail. I did not tell the girls I was about to start for
France, but intimated that I was compelled to leave London for a time,
and said: "I leave the fate of this man, to whom we all owe so much,
in your hands, knowing full well how tender you will be of him."

I was away from home nearly a month, and as I dared not write, and
even Jane did not know where I was, I did not receive, nor expect, any
letters. The king had ordered secrecy, and if I have mingled with all
my faults a single virtue it is that of faithfulness to my trust. So I
had no news from England and sent none home.

During all that time the same old fear lived in my heart that Mary
might fail to liberate Brandon. She knew of the negotiations
concerning the French marriage, as we all did, although only by an
indefinite sort of hearsay, and I was sure the half-founded rumors
that had reached her ears had long since become certainties, and that
her heart was full of trouble and fear of her violent brother. She
would certainly be at her coaxing and wheedling again and on her best
behavior, and I feared she might refrain from telling Henry of her
trip to Grouche's, knowing how severe he was in such matters and how
furious he was sure to become at the discovery. I was certain it was
this fear which had prevented Mary from going directly to the king on
our return to Greenwich from Scotland Palace, and I knew th