secluded life, she was in perfect ignorance of the stirring events of
the past two or three weeks, and he refrained from enlightening her.

"Now, Berry," he said, "go down and stay there till I call you up
again."

"Oh, my dear young master!" said the old woman, beginning to sob.

"Why, what's the matter, Berry?" he cried.

"Oh, my dear, my dear!" she sobbed, with her apron to her eyes; "it's
glad I am to see you when you come, but I do wish you'd stay away."

"Stay away! Why?"

"Because it only means fresh trouble whenever you come over here. I
don't care for myself a bit, my dear; but as soon as I see your bonny
face, I begin to quake, for I know it means spies and soldiers coming
after you and I expect to see you marched off to the Tower, and brought
back with your head chopped off and put up along with the traitors.
Don't do it, my dear; don't do it."

"Don't do what?" cried Frank impatiently.

"Don't go running dreadful risks, my dear, and meddling with such
matters. Let 'em have which king they like, and quarrel and fight about
it; but don't you have anything to do with it at all."

"And don't you try to interfere with matters you can't understand, you
dear old Berry," cried the lad, kissing her affectionately.

"Ah! that's like the dear little curly-headed boy who used to come and
kiss me, and ask me to melt lumps of sugar in the wax candle to make him
candy drops. I often think now, Master Frank, that you have forgotten
your poor old nurse. Ah! I remember when you had the measles so badly,
and your poor dear little face was red and dreadful--"

"Yes, yes, Berry; but I am so busy now. I expect some one to come."

"Not the soldiers, my dear?"

"No, no, no!"

"Nor those dreadful spies?"

"I hope not, Berry. You go down, please, at once, and wait till I call
you up."

"Yes, my dear, yes," said the woman sadly. "You're master now poor dear
Sir Robert is away. I'll go; but pray, pray be careful. It would kill
me, my dear."

"Kill you?" cried Frank. "What would?"

"I should--yes, I would do that!--I should crawl somehow as far as the
city to have one look at your poor dear head sticking on a spike, and
then I should creep down a side street, and lay my head on a doorstep,
and die."

"No, you shan't!" cried Frank, laughing in spite of his excitement, as
he hurried the weeping old woman to the top of the basement stairs.
"I'll come here properly, with my head upon my shoulders. There