made me suffer," the Queen said, and shrugged her
shoulders. "In effect, I skulked back to this detestable island in
disguise, accompanied by Avenel de Giars and Hubert Fitz-Herveis.
To-night some half-dozen fellows--robbers, thorough knaves, like all you
English,--suddenly attacked us on the common yonder and slew the men of
our party. While they were cutting de Giars' throat I slipped away in
the dark and tumbled through many ditches till I spied your light. There
you have my story. Now get me an escort to Bristol."

It was a long while before Messire Heleigh spoke. Then, "These men," he
said--"this de Giars and this Fitz-Herveis--they gave their lives for
yours, as I understand it,--_pro caris amicis_. And yet you do not
grieve for them."

"I shall regret de Giars," the Queen said, "for he made excellent songs.
But Fitz-Herveis?--foh! the man had a face like a horse." Then again her
mood changed. "Many men have died for me, my friend. At first I wept
for them, but now I am dry of tears."

He shook his head. "Cato very wisely says, 'If thou hast need of help,
ask it of thy friends.' But the sweet friend that I remember was a
clean-eyed girl, joyous and exceedingly beautiful. Now you appear to me
one of those ladies of remoter times--Faustina, or Jael, or Artemis, the
King's wife of Tauris,--they that slew men, laughing. I am somewhat
afraid of you, madame."

She was angry at first; then her face softened. "You English!" she said,
only half mirthful. "Eh, my God! you remember me when I was happy. Now
you behold me in my misery. Yet even now I am your Queen, messire, and
it is not yours to pass judgment upon me."

"I do not judge you," he hastily returned. "Rather I cry with him of
old, _Omnia incerta ratione_! and I cry with Salomon that he who meddles
with the strife of another man is like to him that takes a hound by the
ears. Yet listen, madame and Queen. I cannot afford you an escort to
Bristol. This house, of which I am in temporary charge, is Longaville,
my brother's manor. And Lord Brudenel, as you doubtless know, is of the
barons' party and--scant cause for grief!--with Leicester at this moment.
I can trust none of my brother's people, for I believe them to be of much
the same opinion as those Londoners who not long ago stoned you and would
have sunk your barge in Thames River. Oh, let us not blink the fact that
you are not overbeloved in England. So an escort is out of the question.