, of chivalry which was presented in the Coventry play. She
called near her person the Earl of Sussex and Lord Hunsdon, partly
perhaps to make amends to the former for the long and private audiences
with which she had indulged the Earl of Leicester, by engaging him in
conversation upon a pastime which better suited his taste than those
pageants that were furnished forth from the stores of antiquity. The
disposition which the Queen showed to laugh and jest with her military
leaders gave the Earl of Leicester the opportunity he had been watching
for withdrawing from the royal presence, which to the court around, so
well had he chosen his time, had the graceful appearance of leaving his
rival free access to the Queen's person, instead of availing himself of
his right as her landlord to stand perpetually betwixt others and the
light of her countenance.

Leicester's thoughts, however, had a far different object from
mere courtesy; for no sooner did he see the Queen fairly engaged in
conversation with Sussex and Hunsdon, behind whose back stood Sir
Nicholas Blount, grinning from ear to ear at each word which was spoken,
than, making a sign to Tressilian, who, according to appointment,
watched his motions at a little distance, he extricated himself from the
press, and walking towards the Chase, made his way through the crowds of
ordinary spectators, who, with open mouth, stood gazing on the battle
of the English and the Danes. When he had accomplished this, which was
a work of some difficulty, he shot another glance behind him to see that
Tressilian had been equally successful; and as soon as he saw him also
free from the crowd, he led the way to a small thicket, behind which
stood a lackey, with two horses ready saddled. He flung himself on the
one, and made signs to Tressilian to mount the other, who obeyed without
speaking a single word.

Leicester then spurred his horse, and galloped without stopping until
he reached a sequestered spot, environed by lofty oaks, about a mile's
distance from the Castle, and in an opposite direction from the scene to
which curiosity was drawing every spectator. He there dismounted, bound
his horse to a tree, and only pronouncing the words, "Here there is no
risk of interruption," laid his cloak across his saddle, and drew his
sword.

Tressilian imitated his example punctually, yet could not forbear
saying, as he drew his weapon, "My lord, as I have been known to many as
one who does not fe