A GREAT SORROW BEFALLS FRANCIS
And now began a weary time for Francis Stafford. Some hope had crept into her heart after she had seen Lord Shrope, but as the days went by and she heard nothing from him she felt once more friendless and hopeless.
At first her jailer would have nothing to say to her and brought her food and drink, maintaining the strictest silence. As the girl became pale and worn from her confinement he softened visibly. So much so that Francis began anew her pleadings with him to give her some tidings of her mother.
“It is forbid to talk much with prisoners,” said the man gruffly, yet not unkindly, “but I see no harm in telling thee that thy mother hath been moved nearer to thee.”
“Nearer?” cried Francis joyfully. “Oh, good warder, pray you, where?”
“She hath been taken to the Bell Tower which lieth directly south of this tower,” answered the keeper. 261
“So near?” murmured Francis. “That is welcome tidings, good jailer. Prithee tell me but one thing more. How bears she the confinement?”
“Nay, master; that I cannot answer. I am not her keeper, and therefore know naught of her condition.” This he said compassionately for it was known to the warder and other officials of the Tower that Lady Stafford was failing fast under her imprisonment which was the reason of her removal to other quarters.
Not being aware of this fact Francis felt happier at the near proximity of her mother, and applied herself earnestly to the books which the jailer had brought at her solicitation.
“How Hugh Greville would rejoice could he but know what pleasure these give me,” she murmured one day looking up from the volume she held in her hand. “And truly I never knew before the delights to be found in learning. If I continue I may become as learned as Lady Jane——Marry! was she not confined in this very room?”