as during the halt which followed the slaughter of one of the
larks, and the reclaiming of the hawk, that Cicely strayed a little
away from the rest of the party to gather some golden willow catkins
and sprays of white sloe thorn wherewith to adorn a beaupot that might
cheer the dull rooms at Tutbury.

She had jumped down from her pony for the purpose, and was culling the
branch, when from the copsewood that clothed the gorge of the river a
ragged woman, with a hood tied over her head, came forward with
outstretched hand asking for alms.

"Yon may have something from the Queen anon, Goody, when I can get back
to her," said Cis, not much liking the looks or the voice of the woman.

"And have you nothing to cross the poor woman's hand with, fair
mistress?" returned the beggar. "She brought you fair fortune once;
how know you but she can bring you more?"

And Cicely recognised the person who had haunted her at Sheffield,
Tideswell, and Buxton, and whom she had heard pronounced to be no woman
at all.

"I need no fortune of your bringing," she said proudly, and trying to
get nearer the rest of the party, heartily wishing she was on, not off,
her little rough pony.

"My young lady is proud," said her tormentor, fixing on her the little
pale eyes she so much disliked. "She is not one of the maidens who
would thank one who can make or mar her life, and cast spells that can
help her to a princely husband or leave her to a prison."

"Let go," said Cicely, as she saw a retaining hand laid on her pony's
bridle; "I will not be beset thus."

"And this is your gratitude to her who helped you to lie in a queen's
bosom; ay, and who could aid you to rise higher or fall lower?"

"I owe nothing to you," said Cicely, too angry to think of prudence.
"Let me go!"

There was a laugh, and not a woman's laugh. "You owe nothing, quoth my
mistress? Not to one who saw you, a drenched babe, brought in from the
wreck, and who gave the sign which has raised you to your present
honours? Beware!"

By this time, however, the conversation had attracted notice, and
several riders were coming towards them.

There was an immediate change of voice from the threatening tone to the
beggar's whine; but the words were--"I must have my reward ere I speak
out."

"What is this? A masterful beggar wife besetting Mistress Talbot,"
said Mr. Somer, who came first.

"I had naught to give her," said Cicely.

"She should have the lash for thus fri