“I will give thee my cloak and bonnet, master. I durst not do this if thou shouldst want else but to look at the queen. But what harm is there in that?”
“What in truth, Will? A cat may look at a king, I trow. When do you go again?”
“To-morrow. Wouldst go then?”
“Ay, Will.”
“Then, my master, you must be up with the lark for we start early.”
“I will be ready. Then farewell until then. Thou wilt not regret thy favor to me, Will, I promise thee.”
“I hope not, master.”
“Thou wilt not. Farewell till the morrow.”
And Francis ran lightly back to her father to report the result of the interview.