I had feared my lord’s face when he came to look on me in my disfigurement, for he loved beauty, so that I scarcely dared to lift my one sound eye to his. Yet when I had found courage to do so I found nothing but love in his regard, and he embraced me as a father might, kissing my seamed cheek and calling me his dear lad. And young Walter likewise; for in the years that followed, during which we continued the tender friendship that had sprung up between us at the first, I have never once seen in his manner that pity which I could not have borne. But the end of our misfortunes was not yet. Elizabeth died, and the son of Mary of Scotland succeeded; and now my lord anticipated no more ill than came, for the Stuart truckled to King Philip as never a Tudor had done, and ’twas like the Spaniard’s first demand would be that the most glorious of his enemies should be laid away beyond power of annoying him more. So it was that presently my lord was accused of being joined with the Lord Cobham in a plot to bring the Lady Arabella Stuart to the throne, and was cast into the Tower. Then began that long martyrdom which is the everlasting disgrace of the meanest of Kings. He had made friends with his mother’s slayer. What was to be looked for from him? But to shut an eagle in a cage, to clip a sea-bird’s wings, to confine in a little space the noblest, freest spirit that lived, and the loyalist to England! This remained for Mary Stuart’s son to do. There was no end to that imprisonment. Again I went with him to the Tower; while my lady had a lodging without the walls. Young Walter still fought, as his father had before him, the battles of England by land and sea. And I was my lord’s squire in the Tower, and had as much glory and love in it as though ’twere the Field of Cloth of Gold. For now I was to witness the greatness of his spirit. When it had been borne in upon him that this imprisonment was like to have no end, he fretted not as he did in those two months long ago, but solaced his heart by the writing of that great _History of the World_ which remains his monument. Also religion came sweetly to his aid, for that which had been out of sight in his wild, seafaring days now leaped up like a flame. Indeed never have I seen a greater tranquillity. He also occupied himself with the distilling of sweet waters and medicinal herbs; and the Governor of the Tower, who loved him, permitted that his still should be set up in the Governor’s garden, where also he took up again his old gardening ways. Indeed he kept his pain as being a captive out of sight after the first, and contented himself heroically; although his lady, poor soul, deafened the court with her prayers for her brave Wat, as though it were not the Spaniard who had turned the key upon him.