"I came to urge upon Monsieur the wisdom of holding to the Sword and
leaving the Book to the butter-fingered religious. Your Majesty needs
good soldiers."

He bowed, but not low, and it was clear he was bent upon a struggle. He
was confounded by the Queen's presence, he could not guess why she should
have come; and that she was prepared for what she saw was clear.

"And brought an eloquent pleader with you?" She made a scornful gesture
towards Angele.

"Nay, your Majesty; the lady's zeal outran my own, and crossed the
threshold first."

The Queen's face wore a look that Leicester had never seen on it before,
and he had observed it in many moods.

"You found the lady here, then?"

"With Monsieur alone. Seeing she was placed unfortunately, I offered to
escort her hence to her father. But your Majesty came upon the moment."

There was a ring of triumph in Leicester's voice. No doubt, by some
chance, the Queen had become aware of Angele's presence, he thought.
Fate had forestalled the letter he had already written on this matter
and meant to send her within the hour. Chance had played into his hands
with perfect suavity. The Queen, less woman now than Queen, enraged by
the information got he knew not how, had come at once to punish the gross
breach of her orders and a dark misconduct-so he thought.