boy!" laughed the lady, shaking her finger archly. "Nay; I
shall not give thee more compliments, but I would have thee know that I
am thy friend. I am aware that the queen regards thee with disfavor, and
I would aid thee. If thou carest to know more come to the Round Tower
which is the dormitory of the maids of honor this night. There is my
bower. I am the Lady Priscilla Rutland. Know you the place?"

"Yes, my lady; but why, why?----" began Francis, but the lady interrupted
her.

"Fie, fie, naughty boy! art thou so curious? Ask no more until to-night."
With a quizzical look she went on her way leaving the girl staring after
her.

"What said the Lady Priscilla to thee?" demanded Edward Devereaux drawing
near. "Beware of her, Francis Stafford. She is full of wiles and deceit.
'Tis unseemly to speak ill of a woman, but I would fain warn thee. When
Mistress Priscilla is most gracious she is bent on mischief. Therefore do
I bid thee to beware of her."

"Am I so rich in friends that I can cast from me one who proffers amity?"
inquired the girl bitterly. "Who art thou, Master Devereaux, that thou
sayst do this, or do that, and expect me to obey? Thou art mine foe, the
son of my father's foe. What hast thou to do with me?"

"The son of thy father's foe, 'tis true," answered Devereaux, "but not
thine, Francis. I make no war on women though I did unwittingly strike
thee once. I repent me that ever I claimed to have slain that deer. Yet
hear me, mistress. Had the foresters not come as they did, I would have
given thee the horns. I came to thy father's castle to offer them to
thee, but dost thou remember how didst greet me with scorn? And I,
thinking thee to be thy brother, did answer in like manner."

"Thou hast been long in the telling, master," remarked the girl
scornfully. "Dost expect me to believe thee?"

"Upon mine honor it is the truth. But to the matter in hand. Believe me,
'tis for thy good to have naught to do with the Lady Priscilla Rutland. I
have been longer at the court than thou and therefore know of that of
which I speak."

"I am tired of thy watching and prating," declared Francis with spirit.
"I am no child to be chidden. Leave me, and know that Francis Stafford
will do as seemeth best to her."

"As you will, mistress. But if you come to grief blame me not," and the
lad walked away.

"I hate him," ejaculated the girl, her eyes filling with angry tears. "I
hate him with his trite speeches and his sage