st
careless of consequences, she was but waiting till, in her own mind, her
plans were grown; so that she should see her end clearly ere she spoke
or moved. Now, as the great minister showed himself at the door of
the chamber and saw Elizabeth seated with Angele, he drew back
instinctively, expectant of the upraised hand which told him he must
wait. And, in truth, he was nothing loth to do so, for his news he
cared little to deliver, important though it was that she should have it
promptly and act upon it soon. He turned away with a feeling of relief,
however, for this gossip with the Huguenot maid would no doubt interest
her, give new direction to her warm sympathies, which if roused in one
thing were ever more easily roused in others. He knew that a crisis was
nearing in the royal relations with Leicester. In a life of devotion to
her service he had seen her before in this strange mood, and he could
feel that she was ready for an outburst. As he thought of De la Foret
and the favour with which she had looked at him he smiled grimly, for if
it meant aught it meant that it would drive Leicester to some act which
would hasten his own doom; though, indeed, it might also make another
path more difficult for himself, for the Parliament, for the people.

Little as Elizabeth could endure tales of love and news of marriage;
little as she believed in any vows, save those made to herself; little
as she was inclined to adjust the rough courses of true love, she was
the surgeon to this particular business, and she had the surgeon's love
of laying bare even to her own cynicism the hurt of the poor patient
under her knife. Indeed, so had Angele impressed her that for once she
thought she might hear the truth. Because she saw the awe in the
other's face and a worshipping admiration of the great protectress of
Protestantism, who had by large gifts of men and money in times past
helped the Cause, she looked upon her here with kindness.

"Speak now, mistress fugitive, and I will listen," she added, as Cecil
withdrew; and she made a motion to musicians in a distant gallery.

Angele's heart fluttered to her mouth, but the soft, simple music helped
her, and she began with eyes bent upon the ground, her linked fingers
clasping and unclasping slowly.

"I was born at Rouen, your high Majesty," she said. "My mother was a
cousin of the Prince of Passy, the great Protestant--"

"Of Passy--ah!" said Elizabeth amazed. "Then you are Protestants