"I have come to Your Majesty on matter of serious moment," she said, and she spoke as one who had a claim; her husband had rendered great services to the Crown, and held his lofty position more by his own genius than by the King's favour. "Yesterday I sent an express to York, beseeching my lord to stay there with the army, and to-day Mr. Holles, one of my kinsmen, hath gone on the same errand. I beseech Your Majesty to add your weight to these entreaties of mine, and to ask His Majesty to bid my lord stay where he is safe."
At this the Queen's lovely right hand stopped work, and lay slack on the white cover of the casket, and with the other she put back the fine ringlets of black hair from her brow and looked full and delicately at the Countess.
"Both the King and I," she returned gently, "wrote to my lord before that—ay, the day before, and were you more often at court, madame, you would have heard of it."
An eloquent flush bespoke the relief and gratitude of the Countess.
"Then he is safe!" she exclaimed. "At York, amid the army, who can touch him!"
The Queen laughed lightly.
"Dear lady," she said, "thy lord is no longer at York, but on his way to London. At least, if he be as loyal as I think he be."
"London?" repeated Lady Strafford, as if it were a word of terror. "London? my lord cometh?"
"On the bidding of His Majesty and myself," answered Henriette Marie.
The Countess rose, she pushed back the dull crimson hood from her fair curls, and looked the Queen straightly in the face.