might have to
outride Sir Amias in order to join them.

One gentleman came forward from the rest. He held a parchment in his
hand, and as soon as he was alongside of the Queen thus read:--

"Mary, late Queen of Scots and Queen Dowager of France, I, Thomas
Gorges, attaint thee of high treason and of compassing the life of our
most Gracious Majesty Queen Elizabeth, in company with Antony
Babington, John Ballard, Chidiock Tichborne, Robert Barnwell, and
others."

Mary held up her hands, and raised her eyes to Heaven, and a protest
was on her lips, but Gorges cut it short with, "It skills not denying
it, madam. The proofs are in our hands. I have orders to conduct you
to Tickhill, while seals are put on your effects."

"That there may be proofs of your own making," said the Queen, with
dignity. "I have experience of that mode of judgment. So, Sir Amias
Paulett, the chase you lured me to was truly of a poor hunted doe whom
you think you have run down at last. A worthy chase indeed, and of
long continuance!"

"I do but obey my orders, madam," said Paulett, gloomily.

"Oh ay, and so does the sleuth-hound," said Mary.

"Your Grace must be pleased to ride on with me," said Mr. Gorges,
laying his hand on her bridle.

"What are you doing with those gentlemen?" cried Mary, sharply reining
in her horse, as she saw Nau and Curll surrounded by the armed men.

"They will be dealt with after her Majesty's pleasure," returned
Paulett.

Mary dropped her rein and threw up her hands with a gesture of despair,
but as Gorges was leading her away, she turned on her saddle, and
raised her voice to call out, "Farewell, my true and faithful servants!
Betide what may, your mistress will remember you in her prayers.
Curll, we will take care of your wife."

And she waved her hand to them as they were made, with a strong guard,
to ride off in the direction of Lichfield. All the way to Tickhill,
whither she was conducted with Gorges and Paulett on either side of her
horse, Cis could hear her pleading for consideration for poor Barbara
Curll, for whose sake she forgot her own dignity and became a suppliant.

Sir Walter Ashton, a dull heavy-looking country gentleman of burly form
and ruddy countenance, stood at his door, and somewhat clownishly
offered his services to hand her from her horse.

She submitted passively till she had reached the upper chamber which
had been prepared for her, and there, turning on the three gentlemen,