“Briefly, then, last even,” replied Cecil, “young Henry Tracey, being at court, advised her Ladyship he would this morning bring hither the Earl of Essex, and make you friends again.”
Sir Walter Raleigh coloured. “I’faith, I thank good Tracey for his friendly intents,” he said; “but be thou assured, gentle Sir Robert, they will fail him. The Earl will not come.”
“Well, an’ he do, do thou make up with him,” answered Cecil; “and I beseech thee, as I have lost favour with him in thy service, commend me also to his Lordship. By my troth, his ill-report hath done me grievous detriment.”
“An’ he come here, I will have you friends,” returned Raleigh. “But he will not come.”
At this moment, the door opened, and a servant appeared in the aperture.
“My Lord Essex would speak a word with your worship,” he said to Raleigh.
Raleigh and Cecil exchanged glances. “Wait thou here, gentle Sir Robert,” said Raleigh. “I will go meet his Lordship.”
Waving the servant on, he passed out of the chamber, and pushed on for the adjacent stairs. As he was about to descend the stairs, he perceived the Earl of Essex, marshalled by one of the servants, coming up. He extended him his hand directly.
“Your Lordship’s fair presence makes me proud,” he said. “I hope all is well with your Lordship.”