“Forgive me, and you shall have this groat that the queen gave me,” and Francis handed him the coin. “My lord, I know, will give me more to give thee.”
“Well, mayhap it be all right,” said Will somewhat mollified, “but you go no more, young master.”
“No, Will; I will not ask it of thee. I 80 have both seen and spoken with the lady. What more need I?”
“No more, I’ll be bound, master,” growled Will. “There was more in’t than seeing and speaking, I’ll warrant. But I ken none of it. Here we are at Stafford, master.”
“I thank you, Will, for your courtesy,” said Francis sweetly as she left him.
Lord Stafford was awaiting her return anxiously. He folded her close to his breast as she entered his chamber, saying earnestly:
“Thank Heaven, my daughter, that thou hast returned safely to me. Not for all the queens in the world would I have thee adventure such a thing again.”
“Why, ’twas naught,” laughed the girl. “Mary hath the letters now. ’Twas not hard to give them after all.” She recounted the whole affair.
“Well hast thou done, my child. There will need to be further communication with Mary, but not from us. We have done our part. No more of plots or conspiracies will I have, and never again will I subject thee to such danger. Now we will wend homeward to allay the anxiety of thy mother. Whenever 81 I have need of a quick wit and a nimble brain I will call on thee.”
“Glad am I to have pleased thee,” returned Francis. “There is naught that I would not undertake for thee, my father.”