In the same speech Lempriere told of his audience with the Queen, even as she sat at dinner, and of what she said to him; but since his words give but a partial picture of events, the relation must not be his. When the Queen returned from chapel to her apartments, Lempriere was called by an attendant, and he stood behind the Queen’s chair until she summoned him to face her. Then, having finished her meal, and dipped her fingers in a bowl of rose-water, she took up the papers Leicester had given her--the Duke’s Daughter had read them aloud as she ate--and said: “Now, my good Seigneur of Rozel, answer me these few questions: First, what concern is it of yours whether this Michel de la Foret be sent back to France, or die here in England?” “I helped to save his life at sea--one good turn deserves another, your high-born Majesty.” The Queen looked sharply at him, then burst out laughing. “God’s life, but here’s a bull making epigrams!” she said. Then her humour changed. “See you, my butler of Rozel, you shall speak the truth, or I’ll have you where that jerkin will fit you not so well a month hence. Plain answers I will have to plain questions, or De Carteret of St. Ouen’s shall have his will of you and your precious pirate. So bear yourself as you would save your head and your honours.” Lempriere of Rozel never had a better moment than when he met the Queen of England’s threats with faultless intrepidity. “I am concerned about my head, but more about my honours, and most about my honour,” he replied. “My head is my own, my honours are my family’s, for which I would give my head when needed; and my honour defends both until both are naught--and all are in the service of my Queen.” Smiling, Elizabeth suddenly leaned forward, and, with a glance of satisfaction towards the Duke’s Daughter, who was present, said: “I had not thought to find so much logic behind your rampant skull,” she said. “You’ve spoken well, Rozel, and you shall speak by the book to the end, if you will save your friends. What concern is it of yours whether Michel de la Foret live or die?” “It is a concern of one whom I’ve sworn to befriend, and that is my concern, your ineffable Majesty.” “Who is the friend?” “Mademoiselle Aubert.” “The betrothed of this Michel de la Foret?” “Even so, your exalted Majesty. But I made sure De la Foret was dead when I asked her to be my wife.”