ant from danger on every quarter."

"Gracious madam," said Varney, "to speak Heaven's truth, my lord was the
cause of the whole matter."

"Thou villain, wouldst thou betray me?" said Leicester.

"Speak on," said the Queen hastily, her cheek colouring, and her eyes
sparkling, as she addressed Varney--"speak on. Here no commands are
heard but mine."

"They are omnipotent, gracious madam," replied Varney; "and to you there
can be no secrets.--Yet I would not," he added, looking around him,
"speak of my master's concerns to other ears."

"Fall back, my lords," said the Queen to those who surrounded her, "and
do you speak on. What hath the Earl to do with this guilty intrigue of
thine? See, fellow, that thou beliest him not!"

"Far be it from me to traduce my noble patron," replied Varney; "yet
I am compelled to own that some deep, overwhelming, yet secret feeling
hath of late dwelt in my lord's mind, hath abstracted him from the
cares of the household which he was wont to govern with such religious
strictness, and hath left us opportunities to do follies, of which the
shame, as in this case, partly falls upon our patron. Without this, I
had not had means or leisure to commit the folly which has drawn on me
his displeasure--the heaviest to endure by me which I could by any means
incur, saving always the yet more dreaded resentment of your Grace."

"And in this sense, and no other, hath he been accessory to thy fault?"
said Elizabeth.

"Surely, madam, in no other," replied Varney; "but since somewhat hath
chanced to him, he can scarce be called his own man. Look at him,
madam, how pale and trembling he stands! how unlike his usual majesty of
manner!--yet what has he to fear from aught I can say to your Highness?
Ah! madam, since he received that fatal packet!"

"What packet, and from whence?" said the Queen eagerly.

"From whence, madam, I cannot guess; but I am so near to his person that
I know he has ever since worn, suspended around his neck and next to his
heart, that lock of hair which sustains a small golden jewel shaped
like a heart. He speaks to it when alone--he parts not from it when he
sleeps--no heathen ever worshipped an idol with such devotion."

"Thou art a prying knave to watch thy master so closely," said
Elizabeth, blushing, but not with anger; "and a tattling knave to tell
over again his fooleries.--What colour might the braid of hair be that
thou pratest of?"

Varney replied, "A poet, madam,