Despite his black garments, Simon Raby was wearing a cheerful countenance, having been long separated from his father, a close-fisted man, whose only love was gold, which had made his son run to the opposite extreme. Having little in common, Raby had not felt his loss too deeply; but at this speech from Mistress Betty, he pulled down his face and tried to make a proper answer, although all the while he was thinking how radiant was her dark beauty in the white gown she wore, and what a picture she made with the apple-blooms overhead and in her hands. And she knew his thoughts well enough, but chose to turn the talk away.
“How long have you been back in London?” she asked, arranging her flowers; “we have been ten days here, but at this dreadful time it seems much longer.”
“Alas, poor queen of a day!” Raby said compassionately; “’tis a great misfortune for this realm, nor do we see the end of it. I came back but yesterday, and heard the tidings at an inn. They stunned me; I could not believe it until I made inquiries of the matter. ’Tis said that my lord privy seal sent for Sir Francis Bryan, but he is quit of it. And Archbishop Cranmer wept; he hath a gentle heart. I thought of the wizard’s house, Mistress Carew, and of the shrieks of the queen. ’Tis a marvellous thing, and makes an honest man shun the bandy-legged creature. I passed that house as I came on the river; the shutters were open and the windows—verily, they shone like evil eyes in the sunlight.”
Betty shuddered. “’Twas a fearful place,” she said, and added: “I owe you a debt, Lord Raby. My Lady Crabtree told me more of that encounter with Henge than ever you did.”
Raby’s face flushed as he laughed.
“It was a petticoat rescue,” he said, “of which I have little cause to be vainglorious. Hath the villain troubled you again?”
“Nay,” Betty answered, “though my lady tells me that he will avenge his grief. I pray you, beware of this dangerous foe.”
“I would right cheerfully encounter more such in your cause, Mistress Carew,” he answered softly, and then added after a brief pause, “I was not only in Sussex; I have been down to Mohun’s Ottery.”
“To my uncle?” asked Betty, in surprise. “How fared they all?”
“Well, and sent loving greetings to you,” he replied. “Can you not divine my errand, Mistress Carew, down there in Devon?”