Though the Queen had passed out of sight, and the door by which she had made her egress, in the manner and order described, was now closed, the eyes of Essex were still turned in the direction she had taken, and seemed to look for or behold her in the unbroken vacuity. But he did not gaze thus for any protracted period. After a short interval, he dropped his gaze, and turned to retire. He was stepping forward with this view, when, raising his eyes again, he encountered those of Sir Robert Cecil. That person, with whatever motive, had been watching him from the first, and now looked him straight in the face. But the familiarity which he seemed to assume, and which was marked very strikingly in his penetrating gaze, drew from the proud Earl no apparent response; for, instead of pausing, he dropped his glance on the instant, and passed straight on. Cecil bit his lips; but his self-possession, if disturbed, was not seriously affected, and he recovered himself immediately. “My Lord Essex, I would speak with thee a space,” he said, in an obsequious tone. “Be brief, then,” answered Essex, still passing forward, though more slowly; “for I would be gone.” “Nay, ’tis no great matter, my fair Lord,” observed Cecil, with affected indifference. “’Twas but to give thee a warning.” Essex paused. “And what may it be?” he asked. “I will tell thee more anon,” he said. “Now, my Lord, I would simply counsel thee to beware of Sir Walter Raleigh.” “And wherefore of him?” demanded Essex. “I know not that I have in aught offended him.” “Oh, dost thou not?” returned the crafty courtier. “Art not his rival, then? Has he not in thee, and thy good parts, which men do so worthily admire, an obstacle to her Grace’s favour? Trust me, he hates thee, my good Lord!” “I can well believe he bears me no good will,” answered the Earl. “Howbeit, I care not for him, or any other, though, to speak sooth, I want the enmity of no man. Let that, with more right and justice, fall to time-servers and knaves.” So speaking, the haughty young nobleman, without raising his cap, dropped him a proud nod, and passed on his way. Before he reached the lower outlet from the hall, the door at the upper end, leading to the apartments of the Queen, was thrown open, and a lady appeared on the threshold. “Hither, Sir Robert Cecil!” she said. Cecil, though somewhat disconcerted at the altered demeanour of Essex, quickly composed himself, and answered her call with the liveliest promptitude. On his coming up with her, the lady, with some appearance of agitation, presented him with a sealed billet, addressed to Sir Walter Raleigh; and the alert eyes of Cecil readily observed that it was in the handwriting of the Queen. “Her Highness,” said the lady, “charged me to bring thee this billet, which thou art to convey to Sir Walter Raleigh, through a pursuivant, without loss of time. I fear me,” she added, in a tone of sympathy, “it bodes the noble gentleman no good.”