CHAPTER III.
Sir Robert Cecil had paved the way for the downfall of the Earlof Leicester, and, at the same time, achieved one step towardsthe advancement of Essex; but these measures, though great andmomentous of their own selves, were but preliminary to what hemeditated. His next object, according to the plan he had laidout, was to create a dissension between Essex and Raleigh; and,while he pretended to be a friend to each of those personages,to act really as an enemy to them both. This duplicity was notmotiveless, although, on a cursory view, its purpose may not beapparent. He foresaw that Raleigh and Essex would henceforwarddivide the favour of the Queen between them; and if, by pursuingthe policy specified, he could lead each to look upon the otheras a rival, and yet regard him as a friend, he would himself bethe real favourite, and they only his instruments.
The unsuspecting disposition of the impetuous Essex promisedhim an easy prey; but the sagacious Raleigh, whose knowledgeof the world rendered him less unwary, would require moretangible evidence of friendship than mere professions. It becamenecessary, therefore, in order to secure his confidence, toentangle him in some more complicated snare, and then work outthe issue as circumstances should dictate.
The man of policy had already laid his first toils, when SirWalter Raleigh, unconscious of danger, and still thinking ofthe appointment that he had just made with Evaline de Neville,entered the outer hall of Greenwich palace. At the same momentthat he entered on one side, an aged-looking man, of a grave andvenerable appearance, made his ingress on the other. The old manwas dressed in a long blue robe, embroidered, on the left breast,about half-way down, with the royal arms; a high ruff, or frill;and a black velvet cap, fitted close to his head. He walked verylame, and leaned on a stout staff, headed with gold, which seemedto bow beneath the weight of his age and infirmities.
Though somewhat discomposed, Sir Walter’s first impulse, onobserving the old man’s approach, would have led him to spring tohis side, and proffer him the support of his arm. Before he couldrealize his intention, however, he caught the old man’s eye, andit dealt him such a glance as forbade approach.
After his eye had thus rested on him for near a moment, the oldman, seeming suddenly to recollect himself, dropped him a formalbow, and prepared to pass on. Sir Walter, however, though he sawthat he bore him no good-will, was not disposed to suffer himto pass thus; and before he had yet taken a step forward, heaccosted him.
“Give thee good day, my Lord Burleigh,” he said. “I grieve to seeyour Lordship walk so lame.”
“I would ye could all walk straight!” answered Burleigh, with asour and significant look. “Thy new friends, the Papists, be everwalking lame.”
The gouty minister passed on with these words. His look andmanner, being so unusually churlish, had not been unobserved bySir Walter; and, taken in connexion with his words, they seemedto him to menace him with some serious mischief.
He did not doubt that the pointed expressions of the ministeralluded to his friendly disposition towards Sir Edgar de Neville.But, allowing his supposition to be correct, how had he been madeacquainted with this disposition, or how, in the present stageof the affair, could it excite his enmity? This was a mystery--aquestion which, with all his experience of courts and courtiers,Sir Walter could not at the moment unravel.
Nothing transpired during the day to lend the uneasiness he beganto feel any additional incitement. The evening came at last; andas the hour at which he had arranged to meet Evaline drew nigh,with seeming reluctance and tardiness, he sallied into the park,intending to proceed straight to the spot he had appointed.
Just as he entered the park, he observed the Queen, attended bya train of lords and ladies, pacing a neighbouring walk. Thoughthe hour of his appointment was now fast approaching, thiscircumstance induced him to pause, and, while thus stationary,to reflect whether it would be advisable, when the Queen was soclose at hand, to seek to pass unobserved. While he was ponderinghow he should proceed, the Queen, who had hitherto been walkingaway from the palace, suddenly turned round, and discerned him.
It was not without gratification that the great Princessobserved herself to be watched by a man whom every unenviousperson admired. She did not doubt, from his mournful andhesitating posture, that he was watching her with the deepestinterest, though awe of her rank induced him to do so bystealth. There was something touching, as well as pleasing,in this prostrate affection; and when it was revealed by anindividual of such eminent merit, its appeal to the sympathieswas irresistible. Elizabeth, supposing Sir Walter to be thusinfluenced, resolved to lighten his misery, and graciouslybeckoned him to approach.
As he drew nigh, her quick eye readily perceived that, thoughhe strove to conceal it, his manner was embarrassed, and hiscountenance greatly dejected. These appearances, however, tendedto confirm the impressions she had conceived, and her yet fairface became flushed with triumph.
“Why, knight! knight!” she cried, extending him her small hand;“what hath happed?--I prithee, what hath happed?”
While she was yet speaking, she turned her head away, and dealtwhat (notwithstanding its exceeding brevity) appeared to be asignificant look at one of the ladies in waiting. In a momentafterwards, the crowd of courtiers who had been attending herpassed into another walk, and she and Sir Walter stood alone.
“Thou hast not told me what hath befallen thee,” remarked theQueen, at this juncture.
“Methought your Highness looked coldly on me to-day,” answeredSir Walter, at a loss for an excuse.
“Thy thought was false, then, knight,” returned Elizabeth. “Buteven an’ it were true, could that make thee so melancholy?”
“Alas, your Highness, no evil could afflict me more!” said SirWalter. “But your Highness looks wearied. Shall I escort you tothe palace?”
“No!” answered the Queen. “I will rest me here a while.”
Here she turned towards an adjacent summer-house, on one side ofthe walk, and, still leaning on Sir Walter’s arm, passed to itsinterior. The summer-house, which was open in front, looked on tothe walk; but, as its seat was at the back, which was covered in,they were perfectly private, and no one could approach withoutfirst incurring their observation.
When Elizabeth had seated herself in the summer-house, shebeckoned Sir Walter, who had taken his station at the entrance,to come forward, and seat himself by her side. The knight,without further ceremony, obeyed the command, well knowing thatshe liked such manifestations of confidence to be as slightlydwelt upon as possible.
There was a moment’s pause after he had taken his seat. SirWalter, however, though a fear that he would have to neglecthis appointment with Evaline de Neville greatly disturbed him,was too polished and experienced a courtier, and, what was agreater advantage, too well acquainted with the character andtemperament of the Queen, to suffer this pause to continue.Quickly collecting himself, he proceeded to thank her, in asomewhat hyperbolical strain, but which was not unsuited to hertaste, for her marked and flattering condescension, and to praythat her royal favour might ever stand immoveable between him andhis enemies.
“Enemies?” cried the Queen: “what enemies, my chosen knight?”
“Legion, legion, dread Sovereign!” answered Sir Walter. “And asI know, and do heartily confess, that my merits be most pitiful,and that ’tis only the gracious eyes of your Highness that viewthem favourably, so I do often fear, in my hours of solitude,that my enemies may sometime triumph with your Highness, andcompass my disgrace.”
“Have a better heart,” said the Queen, kindly. “But come! come,I will secure thee! Take this ring”--here she drew a light ringfrom her finger, and placed it in his hand--“and, whenever thoushalt need my favour, let this be thy token to me, and thy suitshall not fail.”
Sir Walter, with real and unfeigned gratitude, here dropped onone knee at her feet, and, in this posture, respectfully caughtup her hand, and raised it to his lips.
“An’ our dearest thoughts be at any time visible,” he said, “whenI die, my liege, the
pattern of this ring will be found graven onmy heart.”
“Aroynt thee, flatterer!” replied Elizabeth, with a smile, at thesame time turning away her head.
“Then, let me die, dread Sovereign,” pursued Sir Walter, in aplaintive tone, “an’ I am to be shut out from the light of thosebeauteous eyes! Take from me all thy favours; deprive me of myhigh and unmerited fortunes; but suffer me, I beseech thee, stillto live in thy presence, for there only is life supportable.”
“Is it even so?” rejoined the Queen, turning back her head, andregarding him tenderly. “Well, well--but who is this approaches?”
While she was yet speaking, the expression of her featureschanged, and she darted an angry glance at the neighbouringwalk. As she did so, Sir Walter sprang to his feet; and, hastilywheeling round, and turning his eyes in the same direction as theQueen’s, confronted the Earl of Essex and Sir Robert Cecil.
“Your pardon, my liege,” said Essex to Elizabeth; “for, by mysacred honour, I knew not you were here. Sir Robert and I,crossing the park from Blackheath, came here by absolute chance,and saw none about to intimate the vicinity of your Highness.”
“Enough, gentle Essex,” cried Elizabeth. “But we will homewardnow. Give us thine arm! Now, knight!” she added to Raleigh,“where is thine?”
“At your Highness’s command,” answered Sir Walter, drawing thearm she had extended through one of his.
Thus escorted, Elizabeth passed into the walk, and thence, at aleisurely pace, into the walk adjoining. There she was joined bythe lords and ladies in waiting, and, after a brief promenade,the whole party, following in the wake of the Queen, proceededthence to the palace.
It was a part of the household policy of Elizabeth, at thisperiod of her life, to extend her favour to several persons atonce, so that only herself should be supreme. By such a policy,which seemed to open the way of preferment to every one, sheretained in her court all the most distinguished cavaliers ofthe country, and, whenever she appeared in public, secured theattendance and service of a train of handsome admirers. She didnot depart from her usual practice on the present occasion.Throughout her progress to the palace, she divided her favourbetween Essex and Raleigh so equally, that it was impossible tosay, from her manner and bearing, which had the higher place inher regard, and the courtiers were quite at a loss to know whomthey were to pay their respects to.
Nearly half an hour elapsed before Sir Walter Raleigh could leavethe royal presence. Notwithstanding that the delay caused himsome annoyance, he was still highly elated, on reflection, at themanner in which the time had been spent; and though he had nohope that Evaline would wait so long a period over the hour hehad engaged to meet her, he resumed his design of proceeding tothe locality of the appointment with considerable complacency.
He passed into the first walk of the park without meetinganything to repel this feeling. Before turning into the walkadjoining, which led straight to his destination, he happenedto cast a glance around, and his quick eye detected the figureof a man stealing behind one of the rearward trees. Though hedid not suppose that any one would make it a special businessto follow and watch him, he was anxious, lest he should be madethe subject of any scandalous reports, to pursue his presentobject unobserved; and, therefore, the presence of an overlookerdisturbed him exceedingly. It did not, however, induce him tohalt. Still passing on, he thought that, if the person in hisrear were really watching him, his best course would be to turnout of the walk, and proceed to the scene of his appointmentthrough the open park. Accordingly, after taking a few pacesin the walk, he made a short turn into the adjoining area, andslanted off towards his destination.
In a short time, he reached the summit of a neighbouring hill,from which he could view the lower park, except where it wasscreened by the trees, to the very door of the palace. There,looking round, he effected this survey, and satisfied himselfthat no person was in sight.
On one side of the hill, a broad walk, running between two rowsof fine old trees, which almost met in the middle, led directlyto the Blackheath-gate; and, on ascertaining that no one was inview, he turned hitherwards, and pursued his way towards the gate.
As he approached the gate, he distinguished the figure of afemale, with a long veil drawn over her face, standing under thetree he had named to the messenger of Evaline. He came up withher a few moments afterwards, and, to his great satisfaction,discovered that the fair loiterer was Evaline herself.
Their greeting was cordial and sincere. Their salutationsinterchanged, Sir Walter apologised to Evaline, in a few earnestwords, for having kept her waiting, and assured her that hisdelay was not wilful, but had been owing to his unavoidableattendance on the Queen.
“Indeed,” he added, with a somewhat mournful smile, “after myduty to her Highness was fulfilled, I could not repair hitherstraight; for on my way, happening to glance behind, I descriedsome evil-minded dastard dogging me; and, to avoid him, I had tomake a great round.”
On hearing these words, Evaline, though she saw that Sir Walterno longer apprehended that he was watched, could not refrain fromglancing wistfully down the walk, with the view of ascertainingif any one was in sight. She discerned no person in the walk;but, turning her gaze on the further side, she fancied thatshe distinguished some object, not unlike the figure of a man,leaning against one of the trees. Though she was not certain ofthis, it caused her some alarm; and she pointed it out to SirWalter.
“Mayhap, thou art still followed, Sir,” she said. “Is not that aman’s head yonder?”
Sir Walter turned an earnest glance on the spot she pointed out.
“No, ’tis not a man,” he answered. Then, with recoveredcomposure, he again confronted her, and pursued his speech.
“I have yet been unable, dear lady,” he said, “to compass thyfather’s liberation; but I hope to bring it to pass anon. Therebe more difficulties in the way than I had looked for.”
“Alas!” sighed Evaline, her dark eyes filling with tears.
“Nay, be of good cheer!” resumed Sir Walter, in a tone of deepsympathy. “A day or two, at furthest, will set him at liberty.”
“An’ I could see him,” answered the fair girl, in a voice brokenwith emotion--“an’ I could be with him in prison, and whisper hima few words of cheer, it would ease my heart of half its sorrow.”
“Thou rather needest comfort thyself,” observed Sir Walter,tenderly.
“No, I am young, and able to bear much--very much,” returnedEvaline. “If he saw me hopeful, he would not mourn; for all hiscare is for me.”
“Hast thou sought access to him?” asked Sir Walter.
“Twice,” answered Evaline; “but fruitlessly.”
“’Tis a most cruel persecution,” said Sir Walter. “But fear notfor the issue, dear lady. To-morrow, an’ events be not notablyadverse, I will unfold the matter to the Queen, and secure youher protection.”
“I cannot thank thee,” faltered Evaline, turning away her head.
Sir Walter, not without emotion, gently pressed her hand, andsuffered her to weep a few moments in silence. After a briefinterval, he again addressed her; and in a soft, soothing tone,which fell on her depressed spirit with the most assuasiveeffect, exhorted her to take comfort, and to look to the morrowwith confidence and hope.
Whether from his words, or from some other cause, Evaline becamemore composed in a short time, and, though she spoke in anagitated voice, was able to answer him.
“Thou art very, very kind,” she said. “We must bow to God’s will:and with His blessing, and thy help, we will even bear up. But Iwill not detain thee longer, brave Sir!”
“I will attend thee to thy horse, dear lady,” replied Sir Walter.
“Thou mayst then be observed,” returned Evaline, “and ’twererunning a risk, under passing circumstances, for which there isno need. The man who bore thee my letter waits without the gate;and my servants, with our horses, which I thought it best not tobring so far, wait us on the heath.”
“Thou hast in all thing
s done well,” rejoined Sir Walter. “Besure, I will bear thy business fairly in mind. Meantime, I bidthee farewell!”
“Farewell, worthy Sir Walter!” answered Evaline.
Sir Walter, doffing his plumed hat, raised her hand to his lips,and then suffered her to depart. He watched her till she hadpassed out of the gate, when, with a somewhat thoughtful step, heturned away, and proceeded slowly down the walk.
He had gone but a short way down the walk, when he broke offinto the park, on the side where, after following the line ofthe outer heath for some distance, it takes a sweep round tothe river. It was a beautiful evening, and the hour, which wasapproaching eight, was not so advanced but that it was quitelight. Everything looked gay, and buoyant, and cheerful; and,though the splendour of the day had passed off, the verdure ofthe grass and foliage, which had now attained its most perfecttint, had lost none of its freshness, or looked a whit less greenin the mild light of the evening. The nimble fawns, too, whichwere scattered in groups over the prairie, evidently met theevening with a welcome, and sported and raced about with unwontedspirit. Now in groups, anon in pairs, or singly, they shotacross the park, or, like trusty sentinels, watched the solitarypassenger who had intruded on their domain, as though hisvicinity and progress caused them alarm. But Sir Walter, absorbedin meditation, noted none of these things. He pursued his wayover the area without looking round; and the sweet tranquillityof the scene, which, in its diversity of wood, and hill, anddale, all clothed with verdure, embraced a hundred beautifulaccidents, quite escaped his perception.
Thus progressing, he came to the top of a high hill, looking downon the river, and crowned, about the centre of its summit, witha solitary oak. This fair tree, which gives the hill its name,was then arrayed in foliage, and, in its upland situation, lookedtruly like the monarch of the realm below.
Pausing on the crown of the hill, he seemed, for the first timeduring his ramble, to understand his local position, and tolook with interest and pleasure on the objects around. In itspeculiar features, the landscape which those objects constitutedhad no peer in the world. In his rear lay the noble park, withits surface varied by fair valleys, and gentle eminences, toppedwith trees; and, here and there, traversed by broad avenues, towhich unbroken lines of oak and elm, but principally oak, wereappropriate landmarks. On his side, at the verge of the park,rose the stately palace, with a flag, on which was emblazonedthe royal arms, floating from each of its two dome-capped towers,and marking it as the residence of the Sovereign. Beyond could beseen a forest of tall masts, which a glance on his further side,down the river, would change for a view of Kent, extending asfar as Shooter’s Hill. Opposite to him was spread the low coastof Essex, creeping back, from where its turfy limit was laved bythe river, to inland heights, which tall woods seemed to mark asits natural boundary. Before him flowed the matchless Thames,coursing along, on either hand, as far as the eye could reach, intwenty graceful sweeps; and bearing on its calm bosom hundreds ofbarks, with their white sails swelling under the volume of theevening breeze.
No one could contemplate such a scene with indifference, and,though he had often viewed it before, Sir Walter Raleigh, onwaking from his reverie, scanned its varied features with theliveliest enjoyment. He did not, however, tarry long on thehill. After a brief pause, he set forward again, and--for thesteepness of the descent obliged him to pick his steps--passedslowly, but not mournfully, towards the further park.
Whether it be true, or not, what some assert, that men sometimeshave an instinctive foreboding of a coming ill, there certainlyare moments when we are more inclined to look forward tocalamity, than to anticipate success. And, perhaps, it may not bedifficult, on a close survey, to make this dejection appear to bereally the work of instinct. As the guiding influence of man isdistinguished from that of brutes by its attribute of reason, soall its promptures, though without our perception, regard morethan the passing time, and are tempered by a look at the future.When the judgment is healthy, this look, however closely pursued,will ever have some savour of hope; and if we cast hope aside,the judgment loses its distinguishing characteristic, and sinksto the level of an unrestrained instinct.
During his progress to the palace, the cheerfulness which SirWalter had derived from external nature, in contemplating theprospect from One-Tree Hill, subsided, and his melancholyreturned. The depression seemed to weigh him down, and, despitehis efforts to repel it, to take the shape of a presentiment.Though his strong mind wrestled with the feeling, he foundhimself, every now and then, anticipating some evil, and lookingforward to misfortune as if it were actually in view.
His dejection increased as he approached the palace. As he wasadvancing to the palace-door, a pursuivant, who was standing by,came up to him, and delivered to him a sealed billet. Sir Walter,glancing at the superscription, perceived that it was from theQueen, and eagerly tore it open.
The billet ran thus:--
“To Sir Walter Raleigh, knight, these:--
“Sir Knight,--On the receipt hereof, we will that thou retire,with thy most convenient speed, to thy house in the Strand, andthere hold thyself a prisoner during our pleasure.
“Given under our hand and seal, at our palace of Greenwich.
“ELIZA, R.”