tend you at Kenilworth. And as we
shall then have both Paris and Menelaus within our call, so we will
have the same fair Helen also, whose fickleness has caused this
broil.--Varney, thy wife must be at Kenilworth, and forthcoming at my
order.--My Lord of Leicester, we expect you will look to this."

The Earl and his follower bowed low and raised their heads, without
daring to look at the Queen, or at each other, for both felt at the
instant as if the nets and toils which their own falsehood had woven
were in the act of closing around them. The Queen, however, observed
not their confusion, but proceeded to say, "My Lords of Sussex and
Leicester, we require your presence at the privy-council to be presently
held, where matters of importance are to be debated. We will then take
the water for our divertisement, and you, my lords, will attend us.--And
that reminds us of a circumstance.--Do you, Sir Squire of the Soiled
Cassock" (distinguishing Raleigh by a smile), "fail not to observe
that you are to attend us on our progress. You shall be supplied with
suitable means to reform your wardrobe."

And so terminated this celebrated audience, in which, as throughout her
life, Elizabeth united the occasional caprice of her sex with that sense
and sound policy in which neither man nor woman ever excelled her.

CHAPTER XVII.

Well, then--our course is chosen--spread the sail--
Heave oft the lead, and mark the soundings well--
Look to the helm, good master--many a shoal
Marks this stern coast, and rocks, where sits the Siren,
Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin.--THE SHIPWRECK.

During the brief interval that took place betwixt the dismissal of the
audience and the sitting of the privy-council, Leicester had time to
reflect that he had that morning sealed his own fate. "It was impossible
for him now," he thought, "after having, in the face of all that was
honourable in England, pledged his truth (though in an ambiguous phrase)
for the statement of Varney, to contradict or disavow it, without
exposing himself, not merely to the loss of court-favour, but to the
highest displeasure of the Queen, his deceived mistress, and to the
scorn and contempt at once of his rival and of all his compeers." This
certainty rushed at once on his mind, together with all the difficulties
which he would necessarily be exposed to in preserving a secret which
seemed now equally essential to his safety, to his