CHAPTER IV
ANTHONY BABINGTON
It was that darkest hour of the night, the one just before the dawn, thatFrancis was summoned to attend her father. None of the household wasstirring save Brooks, an old servitor, who stood at the foot of the stepswith the horses. The statues of terrace and court gleamed ghostly whitein the darkness, and the grim old keep frowned darkly upon them. Thedeserted aspect of the courtyard filled the girl with dismay. Highpurposes and noble resolves flourish in the bright light of day and growinto mightiness in the first hours of the night, but the early dawnchills enthusiasm and makes the inspirations of the night before seempoor and weak and hardly worth an effort.
Something of this feeling oppressed Francis Stafford. She missed theshouting of the gallants, the screaming of the hawks, the yelping of thedogs and the blowing of horns that was the accompaniment of ahunting-party. Instead of such a triumphal departure there was only thelow sobbing of Lady Stafford as she bade them farewell.
"My lord, you will have great care for you both, will you not?" shemurmured, trying to control her emotion. "Oh, I like not the journey! Ilike it not!"
"Be not dismayed," comforted her husband. "We will return soon, and thereis no danger. We will be with thee again ere thou hast had time to missus."
The lady said no more but embraced them mournfully. Both father and childwere silent as they swept out of the courtyard into the park beyond.Presently the sky began to soften in the east, and the gray uncertainlight gave place to the blushing dawn. Soon the dark shadows that lurkedunder the trees fled before the golden beams of the sun. Suddenly thenote of a lark rang out silvery and joyous. Bird after bird took up thenote until from every tree and shrub there swelled a grand chorus aslarks and throstles poured forth their matin song of praise.
"How beautiful!" cried Francis, her eyes sparkling, her spirits rising."My father, right glad am I to be here with thee."
"Thine is a wild spirit, Francis," said her father rousing himself. "Youmind me of these birds, so wild and free yet sweet withal. Child, mayhapI have done ill in taking thee thus from thy mother. And yet, we are notin the queen's favor! Should misfortune overtake one it would involveall."
"Father, if by act of mine I can further thy purpose, make use of me, Ipray. Glad am I that thou dost deem me worthy of thy confidence. And dowe not go to the aid of Mary, our rightful queen? What excuse need we forso doing? Oh, if I can once behold her, can but once kiss her hand, thenwould I be willing to lose even my life if 'twere needful."
Lord Stafford smiled at her enthusiasm.
"Has the infection seized upon thee too, child? In like manner so do Ifeel, and so do hundreds of others. Strange what an influence Mary Stuartwields over human hearts! God forfend that thy life should be required,Francis, though many have been lost in her cause. But I would not thatthine should be numbered among them. Marry, it saddens me to think on't.No more of this!"
"What name shall you call me by, my father, since I am your page?" askedFrancis presently.
"Thine own. 'Tis a name that thou dost wear because it was my father's,and will serve. But bear thyself in accordance with it and none will deemthee other than thou seemest. And I--I must teach my tongue to say boyinstead of child. We have a long ride before us, and I fear that thystrength will fail ere we reach its end."
"Fear not, good my father. Thou knowest how used to fatigue I am inhunting and hawking."
"I know thy strength, else I should have feared to risk thee for so longa jaunt. And thou hast never been so far from home before."
"No; I went with thee once to Lymington where I saw The Solent, and inthe distance the Isle of Wight. But never have I been even acrossSouthampton water."
"True; I had forgot. Then thou wilt be entertained greatly, for we gothrough Wilts, Gloucester and Worcester before we reach Stafford."
And so conversing on through the woods they passed until at length theycame to Bramshaw, a little village standing partly in Hampshire andpartly in Wiltshire and forming the forest boundary. Before them swelledthe rounded forms of the Wiltshire downs, and from their midst toweredthe spire of Salisbury with the mound of old Sarum looming darklybehind.
"I prithee tell me, father," said Francis, "what is that which I see inyon distance? Methinks it looks like the tower of a church."
"Its looks belie it not, Francis. It is the spire of the cathedral ofSaint Mary, than which there is none higher in England. In the valleylies Salisbury where we will stop for rest and refreshment. Yon conicalmound is Old Sarum which hath been a fortress from the earliest times.The fosse and rampart belong to the Roman period. In the vast plain whichlies beneath it the Conqueror reviewed his victorious armies, and therealso did the English landholders swear fealty to him."
Francis looked with the delight of one who goes abroad for the firsttime. At the beautiful cathedral, then at the old fort, and lastly at thetown itself which lay in the valley at the confluence of four rivers: theupper Avon, the Wiley, the Bourne and the Nadder. In the centre of thecity was a large handsome square for the market-place from which thestreets branched off at right angles. The streams flowed uncoveredthrough the streets which added greatly to the picturesqueness of theplace.
Lord Stafford turned into one of the side streets, and drew rein before asmall inn, The Mermaid by name. As he rode into the courtyard the hosthurried forward to greet him.
"Good my lord," he said obsequiously, "light, and grace my poor house, Ipray you. There be one here who hath waited since yester e'en to seeyou."
"Beshrew me, sayst thou so!" ejaculated Lord Stafford. "I thought not tomeet with any here. But oft must a man's pleasuring be staid for byaffairs of business. Is it not true, good Giles?"
"Marry, 'tis only too true," replied the host.
"Where is he that would speak with me, Giles?"
"In the east parlor, my lord. I crave forbearance, sir, for placing anyin the room which is reserved for your use, but I knew not that you wereabout to fare this way."
"Trouble not thyself concerning the matter, good Giles," returned hislordship. "Come, Francis."
Tossing his cloak to Francis he strode toward the entrance of the tavern.The girl threw the garment over her arm, started to follow him, and thenpaused in sheerest confusion at finding the eyes of the myrmidons of theinn upon her.
Donning male attire in her own home had been mere sport, but with thecurious eyes of strangers upon her the girl felt painfully embarrassed.
"Look to thyself, boy," came in sharp tones from her father, and therewas a note of warning in the faint emphasis that he placed upon the wordboy.
Thus adjured Francis collected her wits, and, looking neither to theright nor to the left, she followed after her father with all theboldness which she could assume. Lord Stafford wended his way to theeast parlor of the inn with the air of being perfectly familiar with theplace, giving his orders to the rotund host as he went.
"'Tis but a short time that we will trouble thee, Giles," he said. "Serveus with dinner, I pray you. We will rest for a time, and then speedonward. Anthony," he ejaculated as the host threw open the door of thechamber, "it is thou?"
"'Tis even I, my lord," answered a tall young man coming forward. "I hadnews that you were coming this way and hurried hither to greet you."
"Right glad am I to see thee, Babington," was Stafford's rejoinder. "Ihave much to say to thee. Hast dined?"
"No, my lord."
"Then let us eat, and afterward there will be leisure for converse. Be inhaste with thy meal, Giles."
The host hastened from the room while Francis slipped quietly into thenearest chair, and looked with interest at the young man. She had heardof Anthony Babington. His attachment to Mary of Scotland was well known,and his devotion invested him with a romantic glamour now that she toohad espoused the same cause. The young man was speaking in low, rapidtones to her father:
"I tell you, my lord, that the attempt will not be successful. Noinvasion or insurrection can occur during Elizabeth
's life, for any openendeavor in Mary's favor will cause Sir Amyas Paulet to slay her. He hathsworn it."
"Then, Anthony, it may be unwise to try to release Mary from her prison.She hath suffered much of late from illness. It was my hope that if wewere successful, to place her where she might obtain the comforts ofwhich she hath been bereft, and so placed she would regain her health."
"The matter hath gone too far to end in her mere release," criedBabington earnestly. "Elizabeth must die."
"Babington, thou art mad!" exclaimed Lord Stafford starting up inhorror.
"Mad? Nay; I have just begun to see that I have been called to ridEngland of that most unjust queen who transcends the laws of blood bykeeping her own kin imprisoned as she hath done. And I am not alone,Stafford. There are others who believe as I do. Wilt thou join us?"
"Never," cried Lord Stafford sternly. "May my right hand drop from itsshoulder ere it be raised against England's queen. Unjust to Mary shehath been. Unjust in her treatment of her, and unjust in usurping thethrone. But still she is her father's daughter, and crowned queen ofEngland. If it be so that the release of Mary can be compassed, andElizabeth forced to recognize her as her successor, I will join theeffort even as I have already pledged to do. But no more."
"Hast thou not seen Ballard?" asked the young man in surprise.
"Yes; he tarried with me at mine own house as Captain Fortescue. Hownow?"
"He said that thou wert ripe for the project," mused the other.
"Not to assassinate Elizabeth," returned Lord Stafford firmly. "I go toChartley now to acquaint Mary with the plan for her release. But I tellthee, Anthony, if what thou tellest me be true, then will I withdrawfrom the enterprise."
"My lord, I did but try thee. Some there be who advocate the slaying ofElizabeth, but they are few. I beseech you, as you have given yourpledge, aid us in acquainting Mary with the plan for her rescue. No morethan this do we ask, and thou art depended on for this much."
"As mine honor hath been given, I will continue to Chartley," said LordStafford.
"Then, my lord, wilt thou bear this letter also from me," and Babingtonhanded him a small missive. "It hath given her some uneasiness at nothearing from me, and I would ease her mind."
"Yes, Anthony; the letter shall be given her with these others." LordStafford concealed it in his belt. "Methinks that thou art in a bad way,my lad."
"More anon," said Babington. "Our host comes. Thy dinner is served, mylord."
In Doublet and Hose: A Story for Girls Page 4
