"In France we have other ways to deal with treason and rebellion," said the Queen with sudden weariness; "but do what thou wilt! Call thy Parliament, and God grant it avail thee to ease thy needs!"
She moved, with a whisper of silk, from the two men, and, taking up a vellum-bound book from the little bureau where the King had sat, fluttered over the painted leaves.
Strafford picked up his great plumed hat; he was bound that evening for the headquarters of the English army at York, where he was to take up the chief command.
The King walked with him to the door, holding his arm.
"Fear thou nought," he said earnestly. "I will protect thee."
The Queen put down the book and came forward.
"Take no heed of my passions," she said sweetly. "You have served us well and we love you; good fortune, my lord. Farewell, and a fair journey to York."
The Earl went on one knee to kiss her perfumed, pale hand, and she looked at him with a certain tenderness, a certain regret, a certain scorn curious to behold.
"I am too much your servant to avow myself afresh your creature," said Strafford, lifting his ardent eyes, not to the lady, but to his master. "You have all of me. I pray God deliver Your Majesty from these present pressures, and grant me power to work you some service."
The sun was pouring broad beams full through the window and illumining all the rich treasures that filled the cabinet, the gold-threaded tapestry, the Italian pictures, the finely-wrought furniture, the carpets of Persia, and the two graceful figures so delicately apt to this gorgeous setting. The sunlight fell also on my lord, a figure more soldierlike and not so attuned to a scene of luxury.