'Good Hubert Languet! I always think no man in his first youth had ever a truer and more faithful counsellor than Philip possessed in that noble old Huguenot. And how he loved him, and mourned his loss!'
The big bell was now sounding for the mid-day dinner, and Lady Pembroke said,—
'However unwillingly, we must break off our converse now. You will write to me if you repair to Flushing; or you will find a welcome at Wilton on any day when you would fain bend your steps thither. Philip's friend must needs be mine.'
'A double honour I cannot rate too highly,' was the reply. 'I will ever do my best to prove worthy of it.'
CHAPTER XII
FIRE AND SWORD
|
'What love hath wrought Is dearly bought.'—Old Song, 1596. |
Mary Gifford had found a quiet resting-place in the house of her husband's uncle, Master George Gifford, at Arnhem, and here, from time to time, she was visited by Humphrey Ratcliffe, who, in all the tumult of the war, kept well in view the quest for Mary's lost son.
Again and again hope had been raised that he was in one of the Popish centres which were scattered over the Low Countries.