She told him hastily. He heard with astonishment, and then said: “There is some foul trick here. Have you the message?” She handed it to him. “It is the surgeon’s writing, verily,” he said; “but it is still a trick, for the sick man here is Rozel. I see it all. You and I forbidden to meet--it was a trick to bring you here.” “Oh, let me go!” she cried. “Michel, Michel, take me hence.” She turned towards the door. “The gates are closed,” he said, as a cannon boomed on the evening air. Angele trembled violently. “Oh, what will come of this?” she cried, in tearful despair. “Be patient, sweet, and let me think,” he answered. At that moment there came a knocking at the door, then it was thrown open, and there stepped inside the Earl of Leicester, preceded by a page bearing a torch. “Is Michel de la Foret within?” he called; then stopped short, as though astonished, seeing Angele. “So! so!” he said, with a contemptuous laugh. Michel de la Foret’s fingers twitched. He quickly stepped in front of Angele, and answered: “What is your business here, my lord?” Leicester languorously took off a glove, and seemed to stifle a yawn in it; then said: “I came to take you into my service, to urge upon you for your own sake to join my troops, going upon duty in the North; for I fear that if you stay here the Queen Mother of France will have her way. But I fear I am too late. A man who has sworn himself into service d’amour has no time for service de la guerre.” “I will gladly give an hour from any service I may follow to teach the Earl of Leicester that he is less a swordsman than a trickster.” Leicester flushed, but answered coolly: “I can understand your chagrin. You should have locked your door. It is the safer custom.” He bowed lightly towards Angele. “You have not learned our English habits of discretion, Monsieur de la Foret. I would only do you service. I appreciate your choler. I should be no less indignant. So, in the circumstances, I will see that the gates are opened, of course you did not realise the flight of time,--and I will take Mademoiselle to her lodgings. You may rely on my discretion. I am wholly at your service--tout a vous, as who should say in your charming language.” The insolence was so veiled in perfect outward courtesy that it must have seemed impossible for De la Foret to reply in terms equal to the moment. He had, however, no need to reply, for the door of the room suddenly opened, and two pages stepped inside with torches. They were followed by a gentleman in scarlet and gold, who said, “The Queen!” and stepped aside. An instant afterwards Elizabeth, with the Duke’s Daughter, entered. The three dropped upon their knees, and Elizabeth waved without the pages and the gentleman-in-waiting. When the doors closed, the Queen eyed the three kneeling figures, and as her glance fell on Leicester a strange glitter came into her eyes. She motioned all to rise, and with a hand upon the arm of the Duke’s Daughter, said to Leicester: