her voice, but you have not known her heart!"

"Ah, opportunity lacked," he said in irony and with a reminiscent smile.
"I have been busy with State affairs, I have not sat on cushions,
listening to royal fingers on the virginals. Still, I ask you, do you
think there is a reason why from her height she should stoop down to
rescue you or give you any joy? Wherefore should the Queen do aught to
serve you? Wherefore should she save your lover?"

It was on Angele's lips to answer, "Because I saved her life on May Day."
It was on her lips to tell of the poisoned glove, but she only smiled,
and said:

"But, yes, I think, my lord, there is a reason, and in that reason I have
faith."

Leicester saw how firmly she was fixed in her idea, how rooted was her
trust in the Queen's intentions towards her; and he guessed there was
something hidden which gave her such supreme confidence.

"If she means to save him, why does she not save him now? Why not end
the business in a day--not stretch it over these long mid-summer weeks?"

"I do not think it strange," she answered. "He is a political prisoner.
Messages must come and go between England and France. Besides, who
calleth for haste? Is it I who have most at stake? It is not the first
time I have been at Court, my lord. In these high places things are
orderly,"--a touch of sarcasm came into her tone,--"life is not a mighty
rushing wind, save to those whom vexing passion drives to hasty deeds."