As soon as they were out of sight Francis took the locket in her hand.
“And I have seen Mary,” she said with gladness. “How it will surprise my father. How beautiful is the locket, and how full of graciousness and sweetness she is! Service in her behalf must be a joy.”
She turned and retraced her steps toward Stafford unmindful of the fact that she had started to meet her father.
It had been morning when Lord Stafford had left his daughter; the sun was declining in the west when, discouraged and low in spirit, he returned to the tavern!
“It is even worse than report hath it,” he said as he entered the apartment where Francis awaited him. “Chartley is as much a prison for Mary as the tower itself would be. When I sought admission to its gates I was refused and threatened, forsooth. The manor is surrounded by a moat and is well 64 defended. The walls can be scaled only by birds. Methinks that there is cause for Babington’s wild frenzy.”
“Father,” spoke Francis demurely, though there was exultation in her tones, “I saw Mary.”
“My child, what do you say?” ejaculated Lord Stafford in surprise. “How couldst thou? You were not at Chartley.”
“Nathless I saw the queen,” and Francis laughed gleefully. “See what she graciously gave me.”
Her father took the chain and locket in his hands and examined them closely.
“It doth indeed come from Mary,” he said looking at the name, Marie R, engraved upon it. “Thou hast accomplished wonders, Francis. Tell me how the matter fell out?”