Cecil bit his lips; but his self-possession, if disturbed, was not seriously affected, and he recovered himself immediately.
“My Lord Essex, I would speak with thee a space,” he said, in an obsequious tone.
“Be brief, then,” answered Essex, still passing forward, though more slowly; “for I would be gone.”
“Nay, ’tis no great matter, my fair Lord,” observed Cecil, with affected indifference. “’Twas but to give thee a warning.”
Essex paused. “And what may it be?” he asked.
“I will tell thee more anon,” he said. “Now, my Lord, I would simply counsel thee to beware of Sir Walter Raleigh.”
“And wherefore of him?” demanded Essex. “I know not that I have in aught offended him.”
“Oh, dost thou not?” returned the crafty courtier. “Art not his rival, then? Has he not in thee, and thy good parts, which men do so worthily admire, an obstacle to her Grace’s favour? Trust me, he hates thee, my good Lord!”
“I can well believe he bears me no good will,” answered the Earl. “Howbeit, I care not for him, or any other, though, to speak sooth, I want the enmity of no man. Let that, with more right and justice, fall to time-servers and knaves.”
So speaking, the haughty young nobleman, without raising his cap, dropped him a proud nod, and passed on his way. Before he reached the lower outlet from the hall, the door at the upper end, leading to the apartments of the Queen, was thrown open, and a lady appeared on the threshold.