“A maiden,” repeated Lord Shrope. “Francis Stafford is not the son but the daughter of Lord Stafford.”
“Then, in the name of St. George, why this disguise?” asked the secretary. 257
“Tell him, child,” commanded the nobleman, but Francis clung to him convulsively, unable to speak. Seeing her condition, Lord Shrope related the matter hurriedly, concluding with:
“I knew that you knew not her sex, Walsingham, so I sought you to inform you anent it. Learning that you had come here, and fearing that this step would be taken, for well do I ken the stubbornness of the girl where her father is concerned, I hastened hither.”
“But, my lord, if this act be foregone how shall we proceed? Thou knowest well all evidence that can be obtained anent every one implicated with that ‘bosom serpent, Mary,’ should be gotten wil or nil.”
“My Lord of Burleigh is seeking you,” said Lord Shrope. “He reporteth that Babington hath made full confession, and hath thrown himself upon the mercy of the queen.”
“Say you so?” Walsingham started for the door, and then paused. “Thy services will not be needed to-day,” he said to the tormentor. “As for thee,” turning to Francis, “thy sex protects thee from torture, but in 258 sooth I wonder that one so young should be so staunch.”
“Wouldst thou have a daughter speak aught that would go against her father?” asked Francis finding her voice at last. “Nay; ’twas cruel to expect it even though I were in truth my father’s son.”
“Yet still it hath been done,” answered the secretary.
“Perchance thou wilt be more fortunate than I in informing Her Majesty of the matter,” suggested Lord Shrope. “Thou hast her ear.”