The favourite turned, and looked at him with a glance of anger and contempt; and saying, in a low voice, "I will!" he quitted the room.
In about half an hour--it could not be more--a royal barge, containing a gentleman, with his arms folded on his chest, his head bent down, and his brow frowning, together with a small party of the guard, and a messenger, was seen upon the Thames, close to the stairs; and as the waterman pushed off towards the middle of the stream, the officer in command said aloud, "To the Tower!"
The gentleman which that boat conveyed to the gloomy abode of captivity and sorrow, was Sir Thomas Overbury!
[CHAPTER XXXIV.]
We must now return to pursue the homeward course of Sir Griffin Markham, as he proceeded from the Tower of London to his little lodgings, in one of the streets at the back of Petty Wales.
When he had walked about two-thirds of the way, he perceived a female figure hurrying on before him, with a man carrying sword and buckler a step behind him. She was wrapped in a large cloak; but there was something about her light figure and easy walk which made Markham instantly suppose that she was Ida Mara, and on passing by and looking at her face, he saw that the supposition was correct.
He instantly stopped to speak to her; but the girl, who recognised him, notwithstanding his change of dress, made him a sign to forbear and go forward; and at the same moment, the servant with buckler and broadsword told him in a sharp tone to walk on, and not stare into the gentlewoman's face.
At length, at the shop of a silk merchant in a small way, Ida Mara paused, while Markham hurried on to his own lodging. After a few inquiries, and the purchase of some insignificant articles, Ida Mara herself proceeded on her way, telling the man who accompanied her, to wait where he was till her return, or till she called him. She was soon in the entrance of Markham's lodging, the door of the passage standing open; but just as she had passed the threshold, a hand was laid upon her arm, and a voice exclaimed, in a tone of surprise, "Ida!"
The fair Italian instantly turned round, and beheld Sir Harry West.
"In the name of fortune, my dear child, what are you doing here?" and, perhaps, in the circumstances of those depraved times, the good old Knight might have suspected any other of the attendants of the Court of imprudent, if not criminal purposes, in coming thus, with some degree of disguise, to such a part of the City.