“I had a dream,” said Francis striving to repress her tears, “and it hath made me long for liberty.” And she related it to him.
“I wonder not at thy longing,” said the lad. “I too desire with all my heart to be free. And,” he lowered his voice and glanced about for Mrs. Shelton but she was busied over some plants, and out of earshot, “and I intend to be soon.”
“What!” cried Francis, her grief forgotten, looking at him with eagerness.
“Not so loud,” cautioned Edward. “I mean to escape, Francis, and to go to Lord Howard to help fight the Spaniards.”
“Oh, Edward,” breathed the girl, “take me with you.”
“Nay; I cannot. Thou art but a girl, and the risk would be too great. I have the freedom of this inner ward, but there still remains the outer ward and the moat, which, as thou knowest, is on all sides of the Tower, and on the south there is the Thames also. The hazard would be too great.”
“Nay, nay,” pleaded Francis, her soul on 289 fire at the mere mention of escape. “Do take me.”
“But what couldst thou do even were we to succeed?” demanded Devereaux. “Where couldst thou go?”
“To my father in France,” replied Francis.
“Nay; but”—began Devereaux again when the girl caught his hand and held it tightly with her own.