CHAPTER III.
Sir Robert Cecil had paved the way for the downfall of the Earl of Leicester, and, at the same time, achieved one step towards the advancement of Essex; but these measures, though great and momentous of their own selves, were but preliminary to what he meditated. His next object, according to the plan he had laid out, 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 not motiveless, although, on a cursory view, its purpose may not be apparent. He foresaw that Raleigh and Essex would henceforward divide the favour of the Queen between them; and if, by pursuing the policy specified, he could lead each to look upon the other as a rival, and yet regard him as a friend, he would himself be the real favourite, and they only his instruments.
The unsuspecting disposition of the impetuous Essex promised him an easy prey; but the sagacious Raleigh, whose knowledge of the world rendered him less unwary, would require more tangible evidence of friendship than mere professions. It became necessary, therefore, in order to secure his confidence, to entangle him in some more complicated snare, and then work out the issue as circumstances should dictate.
The man of policy had already laid his first toils, when Sir Walter Raleigh, unconscious of danger, and still thinking of the appointment that he had just made with Evaline de Neville, entered the outer hall of Greenwich palace. At the same moment that he entered on one side, an aged-looking man, of a grave and venerable appearance, made his ingress on the other. The old man was 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 very lame, and leaned on a stout staff, headed with gold, which seemed to bow beneath the weight of his age and infirmities.
Though somewhat discomposed, Sir Walter’s first impulse, on observing the old man’s approach, would have led him to spring to his side, and proffer him the support of his arm. Before he could realize his intention, however, he caught the old man’s eye, and it dealt him such a glance as forbade approach.
After his eye had thus rested on him for near a moment, the old man, seeming suddenly to recollect himself, dropped him a formal bow, and prepared to pass on. Sir Walter, however, though he saw that he bore him no good-will, was not disposed to suffer him to pass thus; and before he had yet taken a step forward, he accosted him.
“Give thee good day, my Lord Burleigh,” he said. “I grieve to see your Lordship walk so lame.”
“I would ye could all walk straight!” answered Burleigh, with a sour and significant look. “Thy new friends, the Papists, be ever walking lame.”