think that soon we shall reach a settlement of these matters. Lady Dudley will not live long.”
“Madam,” said Cecil aghast, “I see trouble ahead.”
“Go now,” she said, “and rest. You have had a long journey.”
He bowed and retired.
His thoughts were in a turmoil. Did he understand aright? Were they planning to rid themselves of Lady Dudley? But what a scandal that would be! Did they not see that? Even Queens—young and popular Queens—cannot with impunity connive at murder.
As he was leaving the Queen’s apartment, he met Alvaro de Quadra, the Spanish ambassador who had replaced Feria. De Quadra, spy for his master, ever on the alert, noticed the strained look on the face of the Secretary of State.
Falling into step beside Cecil, de Quadra asked: “And when may I have audience of Her Majesty? There is much to discuss concerning the marriage.”
Cecil was silent for a few moments, then he burst out: “Do not ask these questions of me. I am thinking of leaving my office. I see great troubles ahead. Your Excellency, if you are a friend of England’s, advise Her Majesty not to neglect her duty as she does. Would to God Lord Robert Dudley had lost his head with his brother. That would have been a good thing for England.”
“Lord Dudley?” said de Quadra. “So the Queen still frets for him then?”
“Frets for him? She thinks of nothing else. I know this, and it fills me with dread: They are scheming to murder his wife, that marriage between them will be possible. They say she is suffering from a malady which will shortly rob her of life, but I have discovered this to be untrue. Poor woman! Doubtless she is taking good care not to be poisoned, since she has lived so long.”
The Spanish ambassador could scarcely believe that he had heard correctly. Was this calm Cecil, the wily statesman, the man whose custom it was to consider his lightest remark before uttering it! And to speak thus before the Spanish ambassador, well known to be a spy for his own country!
Cecil recovered his poise; he grasped de Quadra’s arm and said earnestly: “I beg of Your Excellency to say nothing of this. This is the Queen’s secret matter.”
The ambassador gave his word, but immediately retired to his own apartments that he might write dispatches which on this occasion, he was sure, would prove of the utmost interest to his royal master.
A September haze hung in the air. Pinto was in one of the attics looking out over the countryside. How quiet it seemed! Yesterday she had watched the Fair people riding by on their way to Abingdon for the Fair. The servants were talking of it now. She was glad of that. When they were discussing the Fair they ceased to talk of Lord Robert and the Queen.
Poor Amy! She was desperately afraid—afraid of every footfall, afraid even of her fear, for she did not speak of it even to Pinto. She had reason to be afraid. She stood between Lord Robert and his marriage with the Queen.
A woman of Brentford, so they had heard, had been arrested for saying that the Queen was to have Lord Robert’s child. Had she spoken the truth?
Pinto was afraid in this house.
The grounds were beautiful and extensive, but the house itself was shut in by many trees; and it was only by climbing to the top that it was possible to see the open country.
Some of the rooms were large, but those which had been cells, were very small. There were two staircases. One of these, which led from the kitchen quarters, was a narrow spiral one; that which swept up and round the old hall, which had been the monks’ common room, was wide with elaborately carved banisters. This staircase was not enclosed, so that it was possible to look down into the “well” from any point.
It was a house full of shadows, full of echoes from the past. Pinto did not like the thoughts which had come to her while she had been living in this house.
Only last week a very disturbing incident had occurred.
Amy had fallen ill and Pinto, fearing that already she was being poisoned, had been frantic with anxiety.
Her fears had been so great that she had persuaded Amy to call a physician—not one of Lord Robert’s but a friend of the Hydes.
And the man had refused to come.
Lord Robert had his own physicians, he had said. It was their place to look after