He had thought that a
priest's life would be a simple thing, but it seemed otherwise now.
He spoke with those half-dozen men--those who knew him well enough for a
priest; and presently, when some of his own party came, drew aside again
with Anthony, who began to tell him in a low voice of the personages
there.
"These are all my private friends," he said, "and some of them be men of
substance in their own place. There is Mr. Charnoc, of Lancashire, he
with the gilt sword. He is of the Court of her Grace, and comes and goes
as he pleases. He is lodged in Whitehall, and comes here but to see his
friends. And there is Mr. Savage, in the new clothes, with his beard cut
short. He is a very honest fellow, but of a small substance, though of
good family enough."
"Her Grace has some of her ladies, too, that are Catholics, has she
not?" asked Robin.
"There are two or three at least, and no trouble made. They hear mass
when they can at the Embassies. Mendoza is a very good friend of ours."
Mr. Charnoc came up presently to the two. He was a cheerful-looking man,
of northern descent, very particular in his clothes, with large gold
ear-rings; he wore a short, pointed beard above his stiff ruff, and his
eyes were bright and fanatical.
"You are from Rheims, I understand, Mr. Alban."
He sat down with something of an air next to Robin.
"And your county--?" he asked.
"I am from Derbyshire, sir," said Robin.
"From Derbyshire.
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