‘Chris Hatton, fuming, meets and leads her into Brickwall Hall, where she dances--thus. A woman can think while she dances--can think. I’ll show you. Watch!’ She took off her cloak slowly, and stood forth in dove-coloured satin, worked over with pearls that trembled like running water in the running shadows of the trees. Still talking--more to herself than to the children--she swam into a majestical dance of the stateliest balancings, the naughtiest wheelings and turnings aside, the most dignified sinkings, the gravest risings, all joined together by the elaboratest interlacing steps and circles. They leaned forward breathlessly to watch the splendid acting. ‘Would a Spaniard,’ she began, looking on the ground, ‘speak of his revenge till his revenge were ripe? No. Yet a man who loved a woman might threaten her ‘in the hope that his threats would make her love him. Such things have been.’ She moved slowly across a bar of sunlight. ‘A destruction from the West may signify that Philip means to descend on Ireland. But then my Irish spies would have had some warning. The Irish keep no secrets. No--it is not Ireland. Now why--why--why’--the red shoes clicked and paused--‘does Philip name Pedro Melendez de Avila, a general in his Americas, unless’--she turned more quickly--unless he intends to work his destruction from the Americas? Did he say De Avila only to put her off her guard, or for this once has his black pen betrayed his black heart? We’--she raised herself to her full height--‘England must forestall Master Philip. But not openly,’--she sank again--‘we cannot fight Spain openly--not yet--not yet.’ She stepped three paces as though she were pegging down some snare with her twinkling shoe-buckles. ‘The Queen’s mad gentlemen may fight Philip’s poor admirals where they find ‘em, but England, Gloriana, Harry’s daughter, must keep the peace. Perhaps, after all, Philip loves her--as many men and boys do. That may help England. Oh, what shall help England?’ She raised her head--the masked head that seemed to have nothing to do with the busy feet--and stared straight at the children. ‘I think this is rather creepy,’ said Una with a shiver. ‘I wish she’d stop.’ The lady held out her jewelled hand as though she were taking some one else’s hand in the Grand Chain. ‘Can a ship go down into the Gascons’ Graveyard and wait there?’ she asked into the air, and passed on rustling. ‘She’s pretending to ask one of the cousins, isn’t she?’ said Dan, and Puck nodded. Back she came in the silent, swaying, ghostly dance. They saw she was smiling beneath the mask, and they could hear her breathing hard. ‘I cannot lend you any of my ships for the venture; Philip would hear of it,’ she whispered over her shoulder; ‘but as much guns and powder as you ask, if you do not ask too--‘Her voice shot up and she stamped her foot thrice. ‘Louder! Louder, the music in the gallery! Oh, me, but I have burst out of my shoe!’