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Benson, Robert Hugh, 1871-1914

"Come Rack! Come Rope!"

Bourgoign gathering herbs from the
border, not a yard from him. The physician said nothing; he glanced
sharply up and pointed to a seat set under the shelter of the wall that
hid the greater part of the garden from the house to which it belonged;
and as Robin reached it, Mr. Bourgoign, still gathering his herbs, began
to speak in an undertone.
"Do not speak except very softly, if you must," he said. "The Queen is
sick again; and I have leave to gather herbs for her in two or three
gardens. It was refused to me at first and then granted afterwards. From
that I look for the worst.... Beale will come to-morrow, I hear....
Paulet refused me leave the first time, I make no doubt, knowing that
all was to end within a day or two: then he granted it me, for fear I
should suspect his reason. (Can you hear me, sir?)"
Robin nodded. His heart thumped within him.
"Well, sir; I shall tell Sir Amyas to-morrow that my herbs do no
good--that I do not know what to give her Grace. I have seen her Grace
continually, but with a man in the room always.... Her Grace knows that
you are here, and bids me thank you with all her heart.... I shall speak
to Sir Amyas, and shall tell him that you are here: and that I sent for
you, but did not dare to ask leave for you until now. If he refuses I
shall know that all is finished, and that Beale has brought the warrant
with him.... If he consents I shall think that it is put off for a
little..


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