“Your Highness has acted rashly and unwisely in thus exposing yourself,” cried D’Egmont. “Recollect how much hangs upon your life. The destinies of the world would be changed if aught befel you. The saints have guarded you at this moment of peril, and will continue to guard you, but it is tempting Heaven to jeopardise your safety unnecessarily.”
“You assume that I have acted rashly, D’Egmont,” rejoined Philip, “but I did not provoke the conflict. Set upon by assassins, I was compelled to defend my life. Thanks to your cloak and to my own right hand, I have come off without a scratch.”
“I do not presume to ask for particulars,” said the Count. “But I trust you have not been recognised. If so, your secret visit to the town will be known to all within it to-morrow, and will assuredly be reported to the Queen.”
“I have thought of that,” rejoined the Prince. “Precautions must be taken lest any idle tale be told her Majesty. No tidings of the occurrence can reach her to-night, and at daybreak you shall convey a letter to her, wherein I will inform her that I landed privily with the design of hastening to Winchester to throw myself at her feet, when my purpose was prevented by this untoward circumstance. Osbert Clinton shall accompany you. Having been with me at the time of the attack, he will be able to answer any questions the Queen may put to him relative to it.”
“Your Highness will be pleased to give me my lesson previously,” remarked Osbert. “I presume I must say nothing of Constance Tyrrell?”
“Nothing but what will recommend her to the Queen,” rejoined Philip. “Her Majesty will be pleased to learn that the damsel preserved my life by stepping between me and the weapons of the assassins.”
“And did she so?” inquired D’Egmont.
“Ay, in good sooth,” returned Philip; “and it was worth the risk I ran to be so protected. Constance Tyrrell is the fairest creature my eyes ever lighted on. Her charms have completely enthralled me.”
“Then let me counsel your Highness to shake off the fascination as speedily as possible,” said D’Egmont, gravely. “It was an unlucky chance that threw the temptress in your way at this juncture.”
“Lucky or not, I shall not relinquish her,” rejoined Philip. “Were you to preach to me as energetically as Father de Castro, you would produce no effect, so you may spare your breath. And now to prepare the letter to the Queen.”