Babington himself in
the midst. This picture had actually been shown to her Grace in order
that she might guard herself against private assassination, since two or
three of the group were in her own household.
"It is like to go hard with the Scots Queen!" said the clerk bitterly.
"She has gone too far this time."
Robin said nothing to commit himself, for he did not know on which side
the man ranged himself; but he drew him aside after dinner, and asked
whether it might be possible to get a sight of the Queen.
"I am riding to Derby," he said, "with my man. But if to turn aside at
Chartley would give us a chance of seeing her, I would do so. A queen in
captivity is worth seeing. And I can see you are a man of influence."
The clerk looked at him shrewdly; he was a man plainly in love with his
own importance, and the priest's last words were balm to him.
"It might be done," he said. "I do not know."
Robin saw the impression he had made, and that the butter could not be
too thick.
"I am sure you could do it for me," he said, "if any man could. But I
understand that a man of your position may be unwilling--"
The clerk solemnly laid a hand on the priest's arm.
"Well, I will tell you this," he said. "Get speech with Mr. Bourgoign,
her apothecary. He alone has access to her now, besides her own women.
It might be he could put you in some private place to see her go by."
This was not much use, thought Robin; but, at least, it gave him
something to begin at: so he thanked the clerk solemnly and
reverentially, and was rewarded by another discreet pat on the arm.
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