With an exclamation of joy Lady Stafford tried to hold out her hands to her daughter, but dropped them weakly on her breast. Too moved to speak Francis could only clasp her close as if she could never let her go. "My daughter! My daughter!" murmured the mother feebly. "At last I have thee, hold thee again!" "My mother!" uttered the girl brokenly. "My mother!" "Does she wander?" whispered the lieutenant to the physician. "Didst thou hear her say 'daughter'?" "Yea; but her mind is clear. She is weak but not distraught." And the physician looked at the dying woman earnestly. "Will she last long?" queried Sir Michael, the lieutenant, and the physician answered slowly: "Nay; her life may go out at any moment." As in a dream Francis heard both questions and answers, but did not comprehend their import. Presently her mother spoke: "Francis, I am dying." "Nay;" broke from the girl passionately. "Not now, mother. Not when we have just found each other again. You must not, shall not die." "Hush, child! We must not spend the time in woe. I want you to promise me that never again will you be connected with plot against the queen. Promise me." "She hath killed thee," burst from Francis wildly. "Killed thee, my mother, and driven my father forth a fugitive. Oh, I hate her! I hate her!" "Hush, oh hush!" wailed the mother, a look of fear crossing her face as the lieutenant and the physician started forward at the girl's words. "Good masters, heed her not. She is distraught with grief. I--Francis----" She threw out her arms and strove to clasp her daughter, but they fell to her side. A swift pallor spread over her face, a gasping, choking sound rattled noisily, and she was dead. For a moment the girl seemed dazed by what had happened, and then she threw herself upon her mother with a wild shriek. "Mother, mother, speak to me!" "Thy mother is dead," said the physician trying to draw her away. "Touch me not," she cried in frenzied accents turning upon him so fiercely that involuntarily he recoiled. "Minion! leave me. Leave me with my mother." "That may not be, my child," said the physician gently noting the wild light of her eyes. "That may not be. The queen----" "The queen?" cried the girl shrilly. "Yes; the queen! England's great queen! Oh, she is truly great! 'Tis a crime to be fairer than the queen! Ha, ha! a great queen! Truly a great queen!" "Girl or boy, whiche'er you be, cease such words," commanded the lieutenant sternly. "Thou utterest treason." "Treason? Ay, sir, treason! Treason for thee, but not for me. I claim no queen but Mary of Scotland. I----" "Mary of Scotland hath been condemned to death. She will be executed as soon as Elizabeth signs the death warrant." "To die?" shrieked the girl. "Mary to die! If Mary must die, then shall Elizabeth also. Nay; stay me not! I go to kill the queen!" She drew her poniard and made a dash for the door; but the lieutenant caught her ere she reached it.