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Upon reaching the open air, Effingston paused for a moment that the shock occasioned by the admission of Elinor might in some degree pass from him. He had gone to her prepared for tears, protests and womanly anger, and despite the suspicion which had seized his heart, it had not been in his nature to believe the words of his father would so soon find confirmation.

"Her name is Elinor Fawkes, the daughter of an officer, English by birth, now serving in the army of Spain." "Elinor Fawkes," repeated the father, with a start and looking toward Effingston. "'Tis as I feared. Is this, then, the creature on whom thou wouldst bestow thy name?

But I had seen enough, and cried to the bearers to take up the chair and proceed. That, my son, is what I have seen, not learned by mere hearsay. Would that I could have spared thee the telling, but 'tis for thy welfare I have narrated it." Effingston, during the narrative, had remained motionless, his features drawn and colorless.

"I know not that name," answered the other, after a moment's musing. "And his title?" "Viscount Herbert Effingston, son of Lord Monteagle." "Thou hast indeed flown high," Fawkes cried, with a sudden outburst of passion. "Because I love thee I would wish thee dead, aye, dead," he continued, fiercely, raising himself from the chair, "rather than have thee bear the hated name of Monteagle."

To this garden the Viscount Effingston, accompanied by Sir Francis Tillinghurst and another, who bore beneath his cloak a case of instruments, presented himself at the hour appointed for his meeting with Sir Thomas Winter.

The one thus addressed turned, and seeing the determined face at his elbow, paused, but retained his grasp upon the girl. "Release her!" exclaimed Effingston, raising his sword, "ere I spit thee." The man allowed his burden to slip to the ground, the cloak fell from about her figure, and Elinor lay at the feet of him she loved.

He therefore contented himself with obstructing the way in so insolent a manner, and with such malice in his eyes, that it sent the blood to the cheeks of Effingston, and he returned the gaze unflinchingly, saying quietly: "Come, if Sir Thomas Winter hath in mind aught to say to me, let it be done quickly, that I may go upon my way." At the same time he moved as though to pass. "Nay!

Toward the decline of the tenth day following the meeting of Viscount Effingston and Sir Thomas Winter in the garden of the Gentleman-Pensioner, four men might have been seen riding through one of the stretches of woodland used by the King as a hunting ground and known as the forest of Waltham.

The King is expected at half after the hour of ten; that will leave thirty minutes' margin, and the lords will have assembled before James doth take his place." "Knowest thou," inquired Fawkes, when Winter had ceased, "what may be the first measure before the House?" "Methinks," replied the man, "one Lord Effingston will speak upon a bill relating to the duty upon wool."

After a moment he said in a quiet voice: "I trust these hot words of thine are but the outcome of some foolish fancy, which, like the silly scorpion, will kill itself with its own violence. But thou hast not told me all; until I am fully advised, my counsel can be but scant. What name hath he? What title doth he hold? For by thy speech he must be noble?" "Herbert Effingston," replied the girl.