my faithful squire, until his
voice recalled him to my mind.

"Madam, I beg that thou wilt permit me to make known unto thee the
truest heart, as well as the strongest arm, in all England. Courage,
loyalty, generosity and strength are all that do unite in this, your
faithful servant." And I led Michael, who blushed like a maiden,
before Elizabeth.

She spoke some kindly words unto him, and gave him her hand to kiss.

On his knee his head was still as high as hers.

Gently he kissed the dainty fingers lying in his mighty palm, and then
he arose without a word.

Why, oh why, are not the kings and rulers of men born with hearts like
Michael's? Thy praises, oh my faithful squire, should be sung by
masters skilled in the art of playing upon the sympathetic strings of
the living harp, in place of the task, so full of possibilities, being
left to the feeble hand of such an one as I. But then, who knows as
well as thine old master the workings of that great heart whose every
throb is one of loyalty?

But come, Sir Walter, hasten along in the path where lies thy story,
and tarry not, like some gossiping old wife, at every house along the
way, telling some news that helps thee not unto thy destination.

"I have more ill news for thee, Sir Walter," said Elizabeth, when
Michael had arisen and resumed his former place, glad to be no longer
the object on which we all did gaze.

"Heaven forbid!" I exclaimed devoutly.

"Nay, Heaven doth forbid no woe to fall upon mine untimely silvering
head; and it is but just that I should have my punishment."

"But what new calamity may this be, madam?"

"Word reached me a week ago that my little Richard hath disappeared
from the Sanctuary in France, where my son, the Marquis of Dorset, left
him.

"But comes the news from a trusty source?"

"Yes, from Dorset himself. It happened thus, he says:--

"Near-by where stands the Sanctuary there a great mount doth lift its
rugged brow far above the natural level of the earth. Here did my
little Prince delight to stroll and watch the sparkling waters far, far
beneath his feet, rush in their tumbling haste from rock to rock along
their never-ceasing course. Here last was he seen sitting, as was
sometimes his wont, upon a boulder beneath a scraggling bush that there
doth grow. At set of sun he came not to the house; so the good folk
there went out to bring him in. Nowhere could they find him; and now
'tis thought he fell by accident