e
sending for a magistrate, found the cell empty. It had been the turn
of duty of one of the new London men-at-arms, and he had been placed as
sentry at the door by the sergeant--the stupidest and trustiest of
fellows--who stood gaping in utter amazement when he found that sentry
and prisoner were both alike missing.

On the whole, the two warders agreed that it would be wiser to hush up
the matter. When Mary heard that the man had escaped, she quietly
said, "I understand. They know how to do such things better abroad."

Things returned to their usual state except that Humfrey had permission
to go daily to have his hand attended to by M. Gorion, and the Queen
never let pass this opportunity of speaking to him, though the very
first time she ascertained that he knew as little as she did of the
proceedings of his father and Cicely.

Now, for the first time, did Humfrey understand the charm that had
captivated Babington, and that even his father confessed. Ailing,
aging, and suffering as she was, and in daily expectation of her
sentence of death, there was still something more wonderfully winning
about her, a sweet pathetic cheerfulness, kindness, and resignation,
that filled his heart with devotion to her. And then she spoke of
Cicely, the rarest and greatest delight that he could enjoy. She
evidently regarded him with favour, if not affection, because he loved
the maiden whom she could not but deny to him. Would he not do
anything for her? Ay, anything consistent with duty. And there came a
twinge which startled him. Was she making him value duty less? Never.
Besides, how few days he could see her. His hand was healing all too
fast, and what might not come any day from London? Was Queen Mary's
last conquest to be that of Humfrey Talbot?

CHAPTER XL.

THE SENTENCE.

The tragedies of the stage compress themselves into a few hours, but
the tragedies of real life are of slow and heavy march, and the
heart-sickness of delay and hope and dread alike deferred is one of
their chief trials.

Humfrey's hurt was quite well, but as he was at once trusted by his
superiors, and acceptable to the captive, he was employed in many of
those lesser communications between her and her keepers, for which the
two knights did not feel it necessary to harass her with their
presence. His post, for half the twenty-four hours, was on guard in
the gallery outside her anteroom door; but he often knocked and was
admitted