h his humblest
commendations to her, and strove to rest in the belief that as many a
conspirator before--such as Norfolk, Throckmorton, Parry--had perished
on her behalf while she remained untouched, that so it might again be,
since surely, if she were to be tried, he would have been kept alive as
a witness. The peculiar custom of the time in State prosecutions of
hanging the witnesses before the trial had not occurred to him.

But how would it be with Cicely? "Is what this fellow guessed the very
truth?" he asked.

Richard made a sign of affirmation, saying, "Is it only a guess on his
part?"

Babington believed the man stopped short of absolute certainty, though
he had declared himself to have reason to believe that a child must
have been born to the captive queen at Lochleven; and if so, where else
could she be? Was he waiting for clear proof to make the secret known
to the Council? Did he intend to make profit of it and obtain in the
poor girl a subject for further intrigue? Was he withheld by
consideration for Richard Talbot, for whom Babington declared that if
such a villain could be believed in any respect, he had much family
regard and deep gratitude, since Richard had stood his friend when all
his family had cast him off in much resentment at his change of purpose
and opinion.

At any rate he had in his power Cicely's welfare and liberty, if not
the lives of her adopted parents, since in the present juncture of
affairs, and of universal suspicion, the concealment of the existence
of one who stood so near the throne might easily be represented as high
treason. Where was he?

No one knew. For appearance sake, Gifford had fled beyond seas,
happily only to fall into a prison of the Duke of Guise: and they must
hope that Langston might have followed the same course. Meantime,
Richard could but go on as before, Cicely being now in her own mother's
hands. The avowal of her identity must remain for the present as might
be determined by her who had the right to decide.

"I would I could feel hope for any I leave behind me," said poor
Antony. "I trow you will not bear the maiden my message, for you will
deem it a sin that I have loved her, and only her, to the last, though
I have been false to that love as to all else beside. Tell Humfrey how
I long that I had been like him, though he too must love on without
hope."

He sent warm greetings to good Mistress Susan Talbot and craved her
prayers. He had o