As Amy shrunk back with terror, Elizabeth seized on her arm, and dragged the terrified countess to where Leicester stood--the centre of a splendid group of lords and ladies.
"Stand forth, my Lord of Leicester!" cried the queen.
Amy, thinking her husband in danger from the rage of an offended Sovereign, instantly forgot her own wrongs, and throwing herself before the queen, exclaimed, "He is guiltless, madam--he is guiltless; no one can lay aught to the charge of noble Leicester!"
"Why, minion," answered the queen, "didst not thou thyself say that the Earl of Leicester was privy to thy whole history?"
At that moment Varney rushed into the presence, with every mark of disorder.
"What means this saucy intrusion?" said Elizabeth.
Varney could only prostrate himself before her feet, exclaiming: "Pardon, my Liege, pardon! Or let your justice avenge itself on me; but spare my noble, my generous, my innocent patron and master!"
Amy started up at the sight of the man she deemed most odious so near her, and besought the queen to save her from "that most shameless villain!" "I shall go mad if I look longer on him."
"Beshrew me, but I think thou art distraught already," answered the queen. Then she bade Lord Hunsdon, a blunt, warm-hearted old noble, "Look to this poor distressed young woman, and let her be safely bestowed, till we require her to be forthcoming."
"By our Lady," said Hunsdon, taking in his strong arms the swooning form of Amy, "she is a lovely child! And though a rough nurse, your Grace hath given her a kind one. She is safe with me as one of my own ladybirds of daughters."