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Updated: May 9, 2025
The Colonel regarded him gravely. "I hope," he said, "that you don't mean that you consider Wrayson capable " "I wasn't thinking of Wrayson at all," Heneage interrupted. "I was generalizing. But I must say this. I think that, given sufficient provocation or motive, there isn't one of us who wouldn't be capable of committing murder.
Thus, heavily laden with the royal wrath, Heneage was on the point of leaving London for the Netherlands, on the very day upon which Davison arrived, charged with deprecatory missives from that country. After his long detention he had a short passage, crossing from the Brill to Margate in a single night.
Heneage, too, was much relieved, but he was, at the same time, not a little perplexed. It was not so easy to undo all the mischief created by the Queen's petulance. The "scorpion's sting" as her Majesty expressed herself might be balsamed, but the poison had spread far beyond the original wound.
What did he say?" "It was only a line or two," Wrayson answered. "He reminded me of his previous warning to me to leave England for a time, and he underlined it. Louise ought to know. I want to tell her!" "I am glad you did not tell me this before," the Baroness said, as they left the room together, "or it would have spoiled my luncheon. I do not like your friend, Mr. Heneage!"
"Simply because you saw her with the Baroness de Sturm?" Wrayson asked. "They are living together," Heneage reminded him, "a condition which naturally makes for a certain amount of intimacy." "Do you know anything against the Baroness?" Wrayson demanded. "Against her?" Heneage repeated thoughtfully. "Well, that depends." "Do you mean to insinuate that she is an adventuress?" Wrayson asked bluntly.
Thus provided with information, forewarned of danger, furnished with a double set of letters from the Queen to the States the first expressed in language of extreme exasperation, the others couched in almost affectionate terms and laden with messages brimfull of wrathful denunciation from her Majesty to one who was notoriously her Majesty's dearly-beloved, Sir Thomas Heneage set forth on his mission.
On the 1st of April she had congratulated Leicester, Heneage, the States, and all the world, that her secret commands had been staid, and that the ruin which would have followed, had, those decrees been executed according to her first violent wish, was fortunately averted.
Thus, heavily laden with the royal wrath, Heneage was on the point of leaving London for the Netherlands, on the very day upon which Davison arrived, charged with deprecatory missives from that country. After his long detention he had a short passage, crossing from the Brill to Margate in a single night.
It is never likely to be more." "So much the better," the Baroness declared. "Don't you agree with me, Louise?" "I do not like Mr. Heneage," the girl answered. "But then, I have never spoken a dozen words to him in my life." "You have known him intimately?" Wrayson asked the Baroness. She shrugged her shoulders and looked out of the window. "Never that, quite," she answered.
Poor Heneage who likewise received a kind word or two after having been so capriciously and petulantly dealt with was less extravagant in his expressions of gratitude. "The Queen hath sent me a paper-plaister which must please for a time," he said. "God Almighty bless her Majesty ever, and best direct her."
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