"My lord, my lord, I will hear no more. You know I love Monsieur de la
Foret, for whose sake I am here in England--for whose sake I still
remain."

"'Tis a labour of love but ill requited," he answered with suggestion in
his tone.

"What mean you, my lord?" she asked sharply, a kind of blind agony in
her voice; for she felt his meaning, and though she did not believe him,
and knew in her soul he slandered, there was a sting, for slander ever
scorches where it touches.

"Can you not see?" he said. "May Day--why did the Queen command him to
the lists? Why does she keep him here-in the palace? Why, against the
will of France, her ally, does she refuse to send him forth? Why,
unheeding the laughter of the Court, does she favour this unimportant
stranger, brave though he be? Why should she smile upon him? . . .
Can you not see, sweet lady?"

"You know well why the Queen detains him here," she answered calmly now.
"In the Queen's understanding with France, exiles who preach the faith
are free from extradition. You heard what the Queen required of him--
that on Trinity Day he should preach before her, and upon this preaching
should depend his safety."

"Indeed, so her Majesty said with great humour," replied Leicester. "So
indeed she said; but when we hide our faces a thin veil suffices. The
man is a soldier--a soldier born. Why should he turn priest now? I pray
you, think again. He was quick of wit; the Queen's meaning was clear to