“Is it so, indeed?” exclaimed Raleigh, a sorrowful surprise in his kindly face. “I heard it not, ere now;” for he understood the reference, although Betty did not.
“True enough, I fear me,” Raby answered, “although we know it not at Greenwich.”
“How goes it there?” asked Sir William, anxiously.
“Gay, marvellously gay,” his guest replied, “though the king’s grace has been troubled with the swelling in his leg again.”
At this Sir William shook his head.
“And no boy yet,” he said; “pray Heaven this realm may see a prince before his highness yields further to these troubles, and so leaves us with our swords at each other’s throats!”
“What other tidings?” asked Raleigh, eagerly.
“None of late importance,” Raby answered. “Fox has gone to talk to the Lutheran princes against the French intrigues; Master Latimer is made Bishop of Worcester; the parliament has passed the vagrant act, and the universities will pay no more tenths and first fruits; there has been a great mask at Greenwich and a wizard has come to London who promises to show the king his own successor, but his grace will none of him.”
“It may be that he dreads to inquire into so grave a matter,” suggested Lady Carew.
“I know not, madam,” answered Raby, smiling; “it is a much mooted question, even now that the little princess is proclaimed.”