It was his turn to frown. Your true courtier would have smiled, and murmured his eternal devotion. This Mad Nicholas must needs twitch his black brows together, and give a quick unmannerly shake of his head. "By God, you're a saucy knave!" her Grace said stridently. But she sounded more amused than angered. "What's this? You'll none?" "Give me leave to travel awhile, madam," begged Sir Nicholas. "I'm minded to box your ears, sirrah!" said her Grace. "Oh, madam, forgive a tongue unused to speak softly! I had rather serve you with the strong arm abroad than lie idle at your Court." "Well! well! That's prettily spoken, eh, Walsingham? But I don't need your strong arm in France. Nay, I grant no licence to you. Be plain with me, sirrah!" She saw his blue eyes dancing, and struck him lightly on the arm with her fan. "Ha, you laugh? God's Death, you are a daring rogue! Let me hear it. Speak, Beauvallet: the Queen listens." "Madam, I'll not deceive you." Beauvallet dropped to his knee. "Give me leave to go into Spain awhile." This startling request fell into an amazed silence. Then her Grace burst out again into her loud laugh, and those at the far end of the gallery envied Mad Nicholas who could so amuse the Queen. "A jest! An idle jest!" the Queen rapped out. But her piercing gaze was intent upon him. "Wherefor, then?" "Madam, to perform a vow. Grant me so small a boon." "Grant you leave to throw away your life? What shall that profit me? Do you hear this, Walsingham? Is the man mad in good sooth, think you?" Walsingham was stroking his beard. He too watched Sir Nicholas, but there was no reading what was in his mind. "Sir Nicholas might haply bring news out of Spain," he said slowly. The Queen turned an impatient shoulder. "Oh, get some other to do your spies' work, sir! Well, and if I grant this boon, Sir Nicholas? What then?" "Why, madam, only tell me what you would have me bring you out of Spain?" Maybe the swift rejoinder pleased her; maybe she was curious to know what he would do. She said gaily:--"Marry, the best that Spain holds, sir. Mind you that!" Then Walsingham spoke in his soft, cold voice, leading the talk away from this request. Beauvallet was content to have it so. The Queen gave neither yea nor nay, but Sir Francis Walsingham would certainly give a licence to Sir Nicholas Beauvallet for the good intelligence he saw might come of it. CHAPTER VIII It was over three months later that Sir Nicholas Beauvallet went riding southwards from Paris towards the Spanish border. There had been some necessary delay at home: treasure to be bestowed at the Queen's pleasure, and his own affairs to look to. He had also to visit his sister in Worcestershire, and she would not soon let him go. He made a merry month of it there, but told Adela nothing of his plans, and trifled shamelessly with the ladies she brought forward to tempt him into matrimony.