PARDON AND HAPPINESS
The final blow which sent the Armada flying northward had been given. With not a single ship taken and but one, the small bark of Cock, lost, and not more than sixty men killed, the English fleet sent up a pæan of joy, and drew up for conference before following further the fleeing enemy.
“Ye two,” said the lord admiral to Francis and Devereaux, “seeing that ye lie under Her Most Sovereign Majesty’s displeasure, shall bear to her the tidings of our victory. None deserve it more, and, please God, by so doing ye shall win pardon from her. As for me I shall on after the Spaniard as long as provisions and ammunition will permit.”
And so it came about that Francis and Devereaux proceeded to the camp at Tilbury, where the queen was at this time. She was dining in the tent of Lord Leicester, the lieutenant general of the land forces, herself being 322 the generalissimo, when they arrived. There were present, beside the queen and the earl, Sir Francis Walsingham, who had come down from London for conference with the queen; Hatton, the vice chamberlain, the young Earl of Essex who, despite his inexperience, had been made the captain-general of the cavalry, and Lord Shrope, who had hastened to return to England upon hearing of his country’s peril. Francis flashed a glance of joyful recognition at him, but was deterred from other greeting by the presence of the queen.
Elizabeth had risen at their approach, and when the girl beheld her high pale forehead furrowed by lines of care, the lofty features sharpened by anxiety, she felt her heart glow toward her sovereign and the last feeling of animosity which had lain so long in her heart faded away never to return. It was therefore with a sincere feeling of reverence that she knelt before Elizabeth, who had shown herself at this time to be a true daughter of the lion-hearted Plantagenets.
“Ye bear messages from the lord admiral,” cried the queen somewhat anxiously. “Rise, 323 Edward Devereaux, and deliver thyself of them.”
“Most gracious madam,” said Edward, rising gracefully, “the strength of the enemy is broken. Dispirited and distraught they fly before the lord admiral. Madam, the Armada is no more. Here are letters writ by Lord Howard, in which he gives the victory in detail.”
“Now God be praised,” ejaculated the queen, “but this is news indeed. My Lord of Essex, do you spread the tidings throughout the camp that my loving people may rejoice with me. Thy indulgence, Master Devereaux, while I peruse my Lord Howard’s dispatches. Retain thy place that I may confer with thee later.”
Rapidly she glanced over the epistles, and then turned to the assembled lords.
“My lords,” she cried, “behold these lads! They have borne themselves with signal valor during the meeting with the Spaniards. They two, in company with two others of whom more anon, set fire to the ships which brought fear and panic into the fleet of the enemy. Which same device was recommended 324 by us to the lord admiral. Speak, Edward Devereaux! What reward dost thou wish for thy service?”
“Thy pardon, Most Gracious Lady, for breaking the bounds in which you placed me.”
“Ah, Ned, Ned,” said Elizabeth with that archness which, despite her fifty-five years, she continued to employ, “didst thou not know that thy queen placed thee there for thy safety?”
“True, madam;” assented Devereaux. “But not the strongest dungeon of the Tower should have held me in durance when thy person, and my country were in danger.”
“Thy silvery tongue no less than thy service doth well incline me to thy will, Ned,” said she graciously. “Thou art forgiven. And thou?” she added turning to the kneeling girl. “Art thou not that Francis Stafford lately concerned in plot against our person?”
“I am that most unhappy being, madam,” said Francis, rising and looking the queen steadfastly in the face. “I throw myself upon your mercy, Your Majesty, and crave forgiveness. My only plea for so great a fault 325 is, that at that time I had not been brought near your person and knew you not. Had I known you I would never have transgressed. Do with me as you will. Return me to the Tower, or use your pleasure upon me in any fashion as seemeth best to you, only forgive me.”
“Hast thy father schooled thee to speak thus?” demanded the queen.
“My father? Nay; I know not where he is. I have not seen him since I entered the Tower nearly two years ago,” answered the girl.
The queen said something in a low tone to Lord Shrope. That nobleman immediately left the tent, and all eyes centred expectantly upon the queen. Francis looked at her with a growing anxiety as she remained silent. Was she going to remand her to the Tower? Were not her services deserving of some recognition? What was meant by that continued stillness? The queen stood regarding her with those keen, piercing eyes whose fires age had not dimmed, and Francis met her gaze with a sort of fascination, her eyes dilated, her lips parted as she waited the issue. 326
Presently Lord Shrope reentered the tent and with him there came one at sight of whom Francis gave a great cry.
“My father!” And not even the presence of the queen could prevent her from running forward to embrace him. Her father gave no sign that he knew of her presence, but advancing to where the queen stood, knelt before her saying:
“You sent for me, Your Grace, and I am here.”
“My Lord Stafford,” said Elizabeth affably, “thou knowest that when thou didst present thyself before us, beseeching us to permit you to be of service in defending our person, that we agreed that time should prove thy worth. My lord, thou and thy son have redeemed yourselves nobly in our eyes. Rise, my lord! You are restored to your right of blood and to your property. Thy son also hath our full and free forgiveness.”
“Madam, thou art graciousness itself,” said Lord Stafford kissing her hand. “I do repent me of all my transgression against you, but from this time forth, my queen, by the grace of God, you will have no stauncher 327 subject than William Stafford. As for my daughter——”
“Thy daughter?” cried Elizabeth. “Thy daughter? What mean you, Stafford?”
“He means, Your Highness,” cried Lord Shrope, “that his son is not a boy, but a girl.”
“Hold thy tongue, Shrope!” commanded the queen sharply. “Thy wits are addled. Who is there who will read the riddle clearly? Thou, Francis Stafford?”
But Francis, utterly miserable in that her father took no notice of her, was sobbing bitterly and therefore could not reply.
“Let me read it, Your Majesty,” said Lord Stafford, and receiving consent he related the whole story from the time of her coming to Stafford Hall, concluding with,
“I know not, Your Highness, why she doth continue to wear the garb unless from dire perversity——”
“Nay;” cried Francis, her spirit asserting itself. “’Tis because ’twas at thy bidding that I donned it, and I vowed never to remove it until thou didst bid me so to do. Oh, would that I had perished in battle ere thy hardness 328 toward me should pierce me with such agony!” And she again gave way to her grief.
“Why, what hath she done, my lord?” asked the queen curiously.
“She betrayed my trust, Your Grace,” answered Lord Stafford.
“Nay, Stafford,” exclaimed both Walsingham and Lord Shrope together. “You wrong the girl.”
“Wrong her?” asked Lord Stafford eagerly. “Speak, my lords! If ye can convince me of that ye shall remove all that my heart holdeth of bitterness. I long to take her to my breast again, but I would not so long as I believe that she betrayed trust.”
“She would not betray thee, Stafford, even when threatened with torture,” spoke the secretary. “My Lord Shrope can bear witness to the truth of what I speak.”
With a bound Lord Stafford reached the weeping girl and caught her to him.
“My daughter! My daughter!” he cried. “Can you ever forgive me? Say that you forgive me.”
“And you do believe in me?” questioned 329 Francis clinging to him convulsively. “Say that you do, my father.”
“I do, I do, my child.”
“My lord, we will permit you to retire until you are calmer,” came from the queen.
“Thank her, Francis,” said Lord Stafford leading the girl forward. “Thank our gracious queen who hath shown so much of kindness to us.”
“There, sweetheart!” said Elizabeth as Francis with streaming eyes tried to articulate her gratitude. “’Twill suffice for the present. We like thy spirit, and later will receive thee into service near us. When thou hast donned thy maiden attire we would see thee again. Though, by my faith, if all men would honor the garb as thou hast done, there would be few knaves in the kingdom.”
“And this is Mistress Francis Stafford?” cried Edward Devereaux as, two days later, Francis stood on the banks of the river watching the queen as she embarked for London. “Upon my word, Francis; thy attire well becomes thee.”
“‘Hast thou found me, oh, mine enemy?’” 330 quoth the girl gaily turning a bright face toward him.
“Thine enemy, Francis?” said the youth reproachfully. “I thought that that had passed. After all that we have been through together thou shouldst not call me so.”
“And art thou not mine enemy?” asked she archly. “Nay;” as a pained look crossed his face, “I know that thou art not.”
“And neither art thou mine,” asserted Edward. “Ah, Francis, may not we two bury that old enmity by a union of our families in us? If thy father give consent wilt thou agree also?”
“If my father consent, then so will I also, Edward,” spoke the girl softly, adding saucily—“’tis the only way that I’ll ever get that deer’s horns.”
STORIES FOR GIRLS
BETTY WALES, FRESHMAN. By Margaret Warde. Illustrated by Eva M. Nagel. “Every nice girl likes college, though everyone likes it for a different reason,” says one of the college girls in this delightful story, and the same thing might be said of the book. Betty and her chums get all the good and all the fun out of their freshman year at college. In its course are some triumphs, little and great, friendships made and marred, a few heart-burnings, and many an honest hard-won happiness. The girl who has been to college will wish she were back among them, and the one who is going will find herself eager to be with such as Betty and her friends, and to do as they do.
EARNING HER WAY. By Mrs. Clarke Johnson. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. A charming story of an ambitious girl who overcomes in a most original manner many obstacles that stand in the way of securing a college course. While many of her experiences are of a practical nature, and show a brave, self-reliant spirit, some of her escapades and adventures are most exciting, yet surrounding the whole there is an atmosphere of refinement and inspiration that is most helpful and pleasing.
HER COLLEGE DAYS. By Mrs. Clarke Johnson. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. This is a most interesting and healthful tale of a girl’s life in a New England college. The trustful and unbounded love of the heroine for her mother and the mutual and self-sacrificing devotion of the mother to the daughter are so beautifully interwoven with the varied occurrences and exciting incidents of college life as to leave a most wholesome impression upon the mind and heart of the reader.
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STORIES FOR GIRLS
TWO WYOMING GIRLS. By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshall. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. Two girls, thrown upon their own resources, are obliged to “prove up” their homestead claim. This would be no very serious matter were it not for the persecution of an unscrupulous neighbor, who wishes to appropriate the property to his own use. The girls endure many privations, have a number of thrilling adventures, but finally secure their claim and are generally well rewarded for their courage and perseverance.
THE GIRL RANCHERS. By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshall. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. A story of life on a sheep ranch in Montana. The dangers and difficulties incident to such a life are vividly pictured, and the interest in the story is enhanced by the fact that the ranch is managed almost entirely by two young girls. By their energy and pluck, coupled with courage, kindness, and unselfishness, they succeed in disarming the animosity of the neighboring cattle ranchers, and their enterprise eventually results successfully.
IN DOUBLET AND HOSE. By Lucy Foster Madison. Illustrated by Clyde O. DeLand. A story of the time of Queen Elizabeth. The heroine and her family favor the claims of Mary of Scotland to England’s throne. During a visit of Elizabeth to the home of the heroine’s parents, the queen becomes displeased, and as a punishment, orders the girl to attend her at Court. Her adventures there and the incidents which lead to her confinement in the Tower of London, her escape therefrom, and final restoration to favor with the great Queen, form a most interesting narrative.
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STORIES FOR GIRLS
A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION. By Lucy Foster Madison. Illustrated by Clyde O. DeLand. A story of the Civil War in which the interest centers about a brave young girl who is sent by her father from New York to New Orleans as a bearer of important messages. Aided by Admiral Farragut she delivers these after running the Mississippi blockade. Later she is forced to leave New Orleans and is captured and held a prisoner at Vicksburg until its surrender to General Grant.
A COLONIAL MAID OF OLD VIRGINIA. By Lucy Foster Madison. Illustrated by Clyde O. DeLand. The heroine, while yet a motherless babe, is adopted by a wealthy planter of Virginia. At an early age she evinces a strong love for the cause of the colonies, while her uncle and his family are ardent adherents of the King. Her many deeds of heroism carry her to Philadelphia during its occupancy by the British, thence to Valley Forge, the Wyoming massacre, and finally to the surrender at Yorktown.
A MAID AT KING ALFRED’S COURT. By Lucy Foster Madison. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. This is a strong and well told tale of the 9th century. It is a faithful portrayal of the times, and is replete with historical information. The trying experiences through which the little heroine passes, until she finally becomes one of the great Alfred’s family, are most entertainingly set forth. Nothing short of a careful study of the history of the period will give so clear a knowledge of this little known age as the reading of this book.
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STORIES FOR GIRLS
A MAID OF THE FIRST CENTURY. By Lucy Foster Madison. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. A little maid of Palestine goes in search of her father, who for political reasons, has been taken as a slave to Rome. She is shipwrecked in the Mediterranean, but is rescued by a passing vessel bound for Britain. Eventually an opportunity is afforded her for going to Rome, where, after many trying and exciting experiences, she and her father are united and his liberty is restored to him.
THE WHIRLIGIG. By Evelyn Raymond. Illustrated by Ruth Rollins. She is called “The Whirligig” because she is so apt to be blown about by her emotions. It is not until she goes to live with an old aunt and uncle and is thrown upon her own resources, that she develops a steadier and stronger character. She is a great comfort to the elderly people, and at a time when the whole village is threatened with a flood, she rides down the valley and warns the people of their danger. She is a very natural, lovable girl, and the story ends all too soon.
A YANKEE GIRL IN OLD CALIFORNIA. By Evelyn Raymond. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. A young girl, reared among most delightful surroundings in Vermont, suddenly discovers that, owing to a clause in her father’s will, she must make her future home with relatives in the lower portion of old California. No more interesting experience could come in the life of any bright, observing girl than that of an existence in this semi-tropical region, with its wealth of Spanish tradition, its glorious climate, and its abundance of flowers and foliage.
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STORIES FOR GIRLS
A QUAKER MAIDEN. By Evelyn Raymond. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. A young girl reared in all the simplicity of a Quaker family is suddenly transported to the home of a wealthy cousin. She is at first greeted with derision, but gradually her unfailing gentleness and sterling character win the respect of her cousins, and at a time of financial disaster she becomes the reliance of the entire family.
A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST. By Evelyn Raymond. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. The heroine of this unusual tale resides with her uncle on an island in the backwoods of Maine, and her exciting adventures, her unique animal pets, her rescue of her father from unlawful imprisonment, all combine to form a story of exceptional interest and merit. Considerable information concerning animal and plant life is interwoven with the story.
MY LADY BAREFOOT. By Evelyn Raymond. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. A beautifully told story of the trials of a little backwoods girl who lives in a secluded place with an eccentric uncle, until his death. The privations she undergoes during his life-time, her search for other relatives, her rather uncongenial abode with them, her return to her early home to acquire her uncle’s estate, and thus to enjoy a useful and happy life, form a most interesting narrative of a girl whose ruggedness and simplicity of character must appeal to the admiration of all readers.
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STORIES FOR GIRLS
THE LITTLE LADY OF THE FORT. By Annie M. Barnes. Illustrated by Helène Wood. A dramatic story dealing with the struggles of the early French and Spanish settlers for supremacy in the Carolinas. The heroine is an only daughter of the French commandant and is enticed from the fort and held captive by the Spaniards. Her release is finally effected by a young Spaniard whom she befriended, but not until after she has endured many severe trials.
THE FERRY MAID OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE. By Annie M. Barnes. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. An heroic little Georgia girl, in her father’s extremity, takes charge of his ferry, and through many vicissitudes and several impending calamities, succeeds in carrying out her purpose of supporting her invalid parent and his family. The heroine’s cheerfulness and hearty good humor, combined with an unflinching zeal in her determination to accomplish her work, show a character which cannot fail to appeal to young people.
DOROTHY DAY. By Julie M. Lippmann. Illustrated by Ida Waugh. This is a most interesting story of a bright and spirited young girl whose widowed mother remarries. The impulsive girl chafes under the new relationship, being unwilling to share with another the bounteous love of her mother which she had learned to claim wholly for her own. By the exercise of great tact and kindness, the obdurate Dorothy is at last won over, and becomes a most estimable girl.
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Additional Transcriber’s Notes: The following changes, shown in brackets, were made to the original text: Page 30: “My mother, there is something that I would fain ask. [added missing [double quote] mark at the end of the sentence] Page 86: More than ever, my father, Never have I [changed comma to a [period]] Page 138: and Frances noted with dismay [[Francis]] Page 141: The lord chamberlain turned to Frances [[Francis]] Page 155: with true page-like officiousness, proferred [[proffered]] Page 209: her face softening at the apellation. [[appellation]] Page 214: With a loud laugh at his discomforture [[discomfiture]] Page 306: The great galleons and galleases [[galleasses]] Page 318: A huge gallease had her rudder [[galleass]] |