“Yes; he tarried with me at mine own house as Captain Fortescue. How now?”
“He said that thou wert ripe for the project,” mused the other.
“Not to assassinate Elizabeth,” returned Lord Stafford firmly. “I go to Chartley now to acquaint Mary with the plan for her release. But I tell thee, Anthony, if what 47 thou tellest me be true, then will I withdraw from the enterprise.”
“My lord, I did but try thee. Some there be who advocate the slaying of Elizabeth, but they are few. I beseech you, as you have given your pledge, aid us in acquainting Mary with the plan for her rescue. No more than this do we ask, and thou art depended on for this much.”
“As mine honor hath been given, I will continue to Chartley,” said Lord Stafford.
“Then, my lord, wilt thou bear this letter also from me,” and Babington handed him a small missive. “It hath given her some uneasiness at not hearing from me, and I would ease her mind.”
“Yes, Anthony; the letter shall be given her with these others.” Lord Stafford concealed it in his belt. “Methinks that thou art in a bad way, my lad.”
“More anon,” said Babington. “Our host comes. Thy dinner is served, my lord.”