“My mother!” exclaimed Francis and her mother in one breath.
“Thou. Thou canst no longer remain here, because this Hall and its estate are forfeited to the crown by the treason of its owner. ’Tis the queen’s command that thou dost go with thy son to London there to be immured in the Tower. Make ready, madam. Ye two must this hour to the queen.”
“But what crime have I committed?” asked the poor lady in dismay.
“I know not, madam. ’Tis the queen’s command,” was the reply.
“’Tis the worst of all crimes, my mother,” said Francis with irony. “Thou art too fair. ’Tis a fault unforgivable by Elizabeth.”
“Hush, child,” whispered the lady quickly. “Make our sad plight no worse by thy railing.”
“Stay, boy!” cried Wainwright as Francis started to leave the apartment with her mother. “Remain where thou art. I would have speech with thee.” 236
Wonderingly, the girl paused, and Master Wainwright, making a peremptory motion to Lady Stafford to leave them, continued:
“Thou art too elusive to be out of my sight, young sir. Now answer these queries. Wert thou in the dwelling of old Margery when we entered it?”
“Marry! what is it to thee where I was,” answered Francis, desiring not to get the dame into trouble.