with a good ‘Nunc Dimittis,’ which could not be if I did not give surety for the nation after my graved bones. Ye shall hear soon--ye shall hear and be satisfied, and so I give you to the care of Almighty God.” Once more they knelt, and then slowly withdrew, with faces downcast and troubled. They had secret knowledge which she did not yet possess, but which at any moment she must know, and her ambiguous speech carried no conviction to their minds. Yet their conference with her was most opportune, for the news she must presently receive, brought by a messenger from Scotland who had outstripped all others, would no doubt move her to action which should set the minds of the people at rest, and go far to stem the tide of conspiracy flowing through the kingdom. Elizabeth stood watching them, and remained gazing after they had disappeared; then, rousing herself, she turned to leave the room, and beckoned to Angèle to follow. XII As twilight was giving place to night Angèle was roused from the revery into which she had fallen, by the Duke’s Daughter, who whispered to her that if she would have a pleasure given to but few, she would come quickly. Taking her hand, the Duke’s Daughter--as bright and true and whimsical a spirit as ever lived in troubled days and under the ægis of the sword--led her swiftly to the Queen’s chamber. They did not enter, but waited in a quiet gallery. “The Queen is playing upon the virginals, and she playeth best when alone; so stand you here by this tapestry, and you shall have reward beyond payment,” said the Duke’s Daughter. Angèle had no thought that the Queen of her vanity had commanded that she be placed there as though secretly, and she listened dutifully at first; but presently her ears were ravished; and even the Duke’s Daughter showed some surprise, for never had she heard the Queen play with such grace and feeling. The countenance of the musician was towards them, and, at last, as if by accident, Elizabeth looked up and saw the face of her lady. “Spy! spy!” she cried; “come hither--come hither, all of you!” When they had descended and knelt to her, she made as if she would punish the Duke’s Daughter by striking her with a scarf that lay at her hand, but to Angèle she said: “How think you, then, hath that other greater skill--Darnley’s wife, I mean?” “Not she or any other hath so delighted me,” said Angèle, with worship in her eyes--so doth talent to majesty become lifted beyond its measure. The Queen’s eyes lighted. “We shall have dancing, then,” she said. “The dance hath charms for me. We shall not deny our youth. The heart shall keep as young as the body.”