thing but gruff monosyllables could be extracted
from him, except when he finally asked what she would be pleased to
have for supper.

"Mine own cook and pantler have hitherto provided for me. They would
save your household the charge, sir," said Mary, "and I would be at
charges for them."

"Madam, I can bear the charge in the Queen's service. Your black guard
are under ward. And if not, no French jackanapes shall ever brew his
messes in my kitchen! Command honest English fare, madam, and if it
be within my compass, you shall have it. No one shall be stinted in
Walter Ashton's house; but I'll not away with any of your outlandish
kickshaws. Come, what say you to eggs and bacon, madam?"

"As you will, sir," replied Mary, listlessly. And Sir Walter, opening
the door, shouted to his serving-man, who speedily removed the meal, he
going last and making his clumsy reverence at the door, which he locked
behind him.

"So," said Mary, "I descend! I have had the statesman, the earl, the
courtly knight, the pedantic Huguenot, for my warders. Now am I come
to the clown. Soon will it be the dungeon and the headsman."

"O dear madam mother, speak not thus," cried Cicely. "Remember they
can find nothing against you."

"They can make what they cannot find, my poor child. If they thirst
for my blood, it will cost them little to forge a plea. Ah, lassie!
there have been times when nothing but my cousin Elizabeth's
conscience, or her pity, stood between me and doom. If she be brought
to think that I have compassed her death, why then there is naught for
it but to lay my head on the same pillow as Norfolk and More and holy
Fisher, and many another beside. Well, be it so! I shall die a martyr
for the Holy Church, and thus may I atone by God's mercy for my many
sins! Yea, I offer myself a sacrifice," she said, folding her hands
and looking upward with a light on her face. "O do Thou accept it, and
let my sufferings purge away my many misdeeds, and render it a pure and
acceptable offering unto Thee. Child, child," she added, turning to
Cicely, "would that thou wert of my faith, then couldst thou pray for
me."

"O mother, mother, I can do that. I do pray for thee."

And hand in hand with tears often rising, they knelt while Mary
repeated in broken voice the Miserere.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE SEARCH.

Humfrey had been much disappointed, when, instead of joining the hunt,
Sir Amias Paulett bade him undertake