"My lord," replied Varney, "there will be rubs in the smoothest road,

specially when it leads uphill. Sussex's illness was to us a godsend,

from which I hoped much. He has recovered, indeed, but he is not now

more formidable than ere he fell ill, when he received more than one

foil in wrestling with your lordship. Let not your heart fail you, my

lord, and all shall be well."

"My heart never failed me, sir," replied Leicester.

"No, my lord," said Varney; "but it has betrayed you right often. He

that would climb a tree, my lord, must grasp by the branches, not by the

blossom."

"Well, well, well!" said Leicester impatiently; "I understand thy

meaning--my heart shall neither fail me nor seduce me. Have my retinue

in order--see that their array be so splendid as to put down, not only

the rude companions of Ratcliffe, but the retainers of every other

nobleman and courtier. Let them be well armed withal, but without any

outward display of their weapons, wearing them as if more for fashion's

sake than for use. Do thou thyself keep close to me, I may have business

for you."

The preparations of Sussex and his party were not less anxious than

those of Leicester.

"Thy Supplication, impeaching Varney of seduction," said the Earl to

Tressilian, "is by this time in the Queen's hand--I have sent it through

a sure channel. Methinks your suit should succeed, being, as it is,

founded in justice and honour, and Elizabeth being the very muster of

both. But--I wot not how--the gipsy" (so Sussex was wont to call his

rival on account of his dark complexion) "hath much to say with her in

these holyday times of peace. Were war at the gates, I should be one of

her white boys; but soldiers, like their bucklers and Bilboa blades, get

out of fashion in peace time, and satin sleeves and walking rapiers bear

the bell. Well, we must be gay, since such is the fashion.--Blount, hast

thou seen our household put into their new braveries? But thou knowest

as little of these toys as I do; thou wouldst be ready enow at disposing

a stand of pikes."

"My good lord," answered Blount, "Raleigh hath been here, and taken that

charge upon him--your train will glitter like a May morning. Marry, the

cost is another question. One might keep an hospital of old soldiers at

the charge of ten modern lackeys."

"He must not count cost to-day, Nicholas," said the Earl in reply. "I

am beholden to Raleigh for his care. I trust, though, he has remembered

that I am an old soldier, and would have no more of these follies than

needs must."




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