“I wait only for thee, Hal,” answered Essex.
“Then, in good sooth, we will even go round by Durham House, and call for Sir Walter Raleigh,” said Tracey.
The Earl changed colour. “What mean’st thou?” he demanded. “Have not I told thee, over and over again, that Sir Walter likes me not?”
“And have not I told thee, with the same perseverance, that thou wast misled?” returned Tracey. “Let me tell thee what he did last even. He was bidding farewell to her Highness, and she, with many loving words, was thanking him that he had that morning done her a good service, by helping her with her horse, when, to the admiration of the court, Sir Walter denied the service was his, and affirmed it was rendered by my Lord Essex. Nay, hear me out! Her Highness, on the outset, would not have it so; but, by and by, Sir Walter did make his words apparent, and righted thee at his own cost. Was this like an enemy?”
“By my hand, no!” exclaimed the impetuous Earl. “Say no more on’t. We will even call for him, and be friends.”
While he was engaged in preparing to carry his purpose into effect, the distinguished personage whom he proposed to visit, like himself, was meditating a journey to Portsmouth. He had just equipped himself for his expedition, when, after a preliminary knock on the door, a servant entered the library, where he was sitting, and solicited access for Sir Robert Cecil.
“Bring him hither quickly,” answered Sir Walter.
Sir Robert Cecil, who had followed the servant unperceived up the stairs, and was listening at the door, overheard what was said, and thereupon entered unbidden.
“Worthy Sir Walter, give thee good morrow!” he cried, with a smile. “I had feared thou hadst set forth for the fleet, and I have that to tell thee, on the part of my Lady Nottingham, which must hold thee here a space longer.”
“It must be a matter of moment, then, gentle Sir Robert,” said Raleigh. “Prithee, what doth it import?”