, like that of a
judge, the tawny eyes with a strange gleam in them fixed on some one in
the throng on the grass near at hand. Lord Talbot advanced with a bow
so low that he swept the ground with his plume, and while the two
youths followed his example, Diccon's quick eye noted that she glanced
for one rapid second at their weapons, then continued her steady gaze,
never withdrawing it even to receive Lord Talbot's salutation as he
knelt before her, though she said, "We greet you well, my good lord.
Are not we well guarded, not having one man with a sword near me?"

"Here are three good swords, madam," returned he, "mine own, and those
of my two young kinsmen, whom I venture to present to your Majesty, as
they bear greetings from your trusty servant, Sir Francis Drake."

While he spoke there had been a by-play unperceived by him, or by the
somewhat slow and tardy Hatton. A touch from Diccon had made Humfrey
follow the direction of the Queen's eye, and they saw it was fixed on a
figure in a loose cloak strangely resembling that which they had seen
on the stair of the house Babington had entered. They also saw a
certain quailing and cowering of the form, and a scowl on the shaggy
red eyebrows, and Irish features, and Humfrey at once edged himself so
as to come between the fellow and the Queen, though he was ready to
expect a pistol shot in his back, but better thus, was his thought,
than that it should strike her,--and both laid their hands on their
swords.

"How now!" said Hatton, "young men, you are over prompt. Her Majesty
needs no swords. You are out of rank. Fall in and do your obeisance."

Something in the Queen's relaxed gaze told Humfrey that the peril was
over, and that he might kneel as Talbot named him, explaining his
lineage as Elizabeth always wished to have done. A sort of tremor
passed over her, but she instantly recalled her attention. "From
Drake!" she said, in her clear, somewhat shrill voice. "So, young
gentleman, you have been with the pirate who outruns our orders, and
fills our brother of Spain with malice such that he would have our life
by fair or foul means."

"That shall he never do while your Grace has English watch-dogs to
guard you," returned Talbot.

"The Talbot is a trusty hound by water or by land," said Elizabeth,
surveying the goodly proportion of the elder brother. "Whelps of a
good litter, though yonder lad be somewhat long and lean. Well, and
how fares Sir Francis? Le