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I am his son, cousin german to Robert Devereaux, Earl of Essex. Surely, even if thou dost reside far from the court, thou dost know that there hath always been enmity between the Devereaux and the Staffords?" "Ay! I know of it," assented Francis. "And that is why thou didst claim, the deer which was slain by my hand in the park?" "So thou dost still claim the deer? Mark you, Francis Stafford!
Would that I knew the donor's name that I might cherish it forever." "'Twas thine enemy, Francis. Oh, stupid girl, where are thine eyes! See, his looks betray him," laughed Mrs. Shelton. "Was it thou, Edward Devereaux?" demanded Francis. "Well, what if it were thine enemy, Francis? What then? Wouldst still cherish his name?" "Surely it was not thee, Edward Devereaux?"
The saloons granted him the freedom of their bars. Men sought him continuously. The high officials bowed down to him for further information, and he was feasted at the Barracks by Constantine and his brother officers. And then, one day, Devereaux, the government courier, halted his tired dogs before the gold commissioner's office. Dead? Who said so?
Reading some letters from Robert, Earl of Essex, to Lady Rich, his sister, the handsome, fascinating, and disreputable Penelope Devereaux, he notes, in their humorous melancholy and discontent with mankind, something in tone and even language which suggests the weak and fantastic side of Hamlet's mind, and asks if the poet may not have conceived his character of Hamlet from Essex, and of Horatio from Southampton, his friend and patron.
He opened the window to inquire the cause of the disturbance, when Devereaux entered, with thirty Irishmen at his back. The cowards shrank at the sight of their great general, standing calm and stern, unarmed, and at their mercy. But Devereaux, a callous and brutal soldier, in a moment stepped forward, and cried: "Art thou the traitor who wilt ruin the Empire?"
"Lies there," and Devereaux pointed to a dark figure extended at full length beside the belfry. "Mind him not. We must hasten. Here is the rope. Descend, and loose not thine hold of it until thy feet have touched ground as thou lovest life. Remember the fate of Griffin of Wales." Francis grasped the rope and swung herself clear of the belfry.
Besides, I may have been somewhat unmannerly in my treatment of Master Devereaux, and it behooves me as a gentlewoman to make other recompense for his courtesy." "And say you so, Francis?" laughed Mrs. Shelton who considered the affair great sport. "Belike it be no unpleasant duty. But there, child!
"Fare you well, mistress," answered Devereaux courteously. Frequently after this Francis saw Edward Devereaux in the garden, but she preserved such a distant demeanor toward him that the youth did not dare to address her. "Fie upon thee, lady bird," chided Mrs. Shelton. "Is it thus that thou dost requite such favor? Thou dost not deserve to be remembered."
"'Tis enough," answered Edward. "At another season perchance thou mayst find it in thy heart to say, 'Ned, I forgive thee the deer; I forgive thee the blow that thou gavest me, and I forgive thee that thou art mine enemy." "It may be," said the girl coldly. "Come, good mistress, 'tis time that we did go in. And so fare you well, Master Devereaux."
"And this is Mistress Francis Stafford?" cried Edward Devereaux as, two days later, Francis stood on the banks of the river watching the queen as she embarked for London. "Upon my word, Francis; thy attire well becomes thee." "'Hast thou found me, oh, mine enemy?" quoth the girl gaily turning a bright face toward him. "Thine enemy, Francis?" said the youth reproachfully.
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