Douglass did not answer her but asked that her child be brought to her.

The boy knelt on the bed and asked her why she was so sad; but she merely shook her head and said: “It will pass.”

“I know of one who could make you happy,” he said. “I will find him and bring him to you.”

Wearily she shook her head.

“But you are always happy when the great Earl comes to see you … and so am I!”

She looked at him sadly and, drawing him to her, she kissed him.

“You and I will be happy together, my darling,” she said at last.

But she seemed to hear a voice warning her: “Be wise. Remember Amy Robsart!”

Robert and Lettice were married at Kenilworth that summer. They were reckless, both of them; yet they strove to keep their secret from the Queen.

Lettice’s family heard what had happened, and insisted that the ceremony be repeated under their auspices at their house in Wanstead. They were not going to see their daughter in the position of poor Douglass Howard.

The Knollys family had been greatly disturbed when they heard of their daughter’s infatuation, and at the lengths to which it had carried her and the Earl. No one in the kingdom believed Robert guiltless of the murder of his first wife, and now the name of Essex was added to his victims. Rumors concerning him had multiplied, and yet, oddly enough, the news of the marriage had so far not reached the Queen.

But when Lettice’s family had assured themselves that Robert could not repudiate the marriage even if he wished to do so, and when they considered his power and his Protestant leanings, they realized the great advantages which could accrue from a connection between their house and his.

Philip of Spain had carried his persecution too far when he had set up the Inquisition in the Netherlands. William the Silent was leading his people against the tyranny and fanatical cruelties of the Spaniards. It was more than a local struggle. It was a world-wide struggle between Protestants and Catholics; and the Knollys’s—that great Protestant family—wished to see England join in the struggle; they held, as did many statesmen, that the Queen’s aversion from war might lead the country to disaster, and that refusal to join the smaller conflict with friends might leave her to face a greater one alone. If Spain were victorious in the Netherlands, undoubtedly Philip’s savage fanaticism would be turned against the greatest stronghold of Protestantism in the world, which was England.

The Protestant Party must stand firm and strengthen itself in every way possible; and, in marrying a daughter of the foremost Protestant house, it was considered that Robert had abandoned his lukewarm profession of Protestantism and was now its staunch ally. Robert’s nephew, Philip Sidney, had married the daughter of another great Protestant, Sir Francis Walsingham. So now, as one of the greatest statesmen of the day, by his marriage with Lettice Robert found himself looked upon as the leader of the Protestant Party. And the Protestant Party opposed the Queen’s marriage with the Duke of Anjou.

Meanwhile Elizabeth continued to flirt with her Monkey, who was becoming more and more impatient with the passing of every day.

Would not Her Majesty allow him to bring her the marriage contracts? he was continually asking. His master was well-nigh sick with love of her.

She became perverse, as she always was when matters were being driven toward a conclusion.

“Dear Monkey,” she said, “I could not decide on marrying a man whom I have not seen.”

“Madame, I assure you he is the most handsome Prince in Christendom.”

“We have heard views to the contrary.”

“If he lacks a little in stature, he makes up for it in the bigness of his heart, Your Majesty.”

“But those pock-marks! I think of them often.”

“Now that his beard has grown, they are scarcely visible.”

“And the French are such deceivers. I think of his father who kept a mistress to whom he did more honor than to his wife.”

“He is more enamored of Your Majesty than any man ever was—even of his mistress.”

“As for his grandfather, I am too modest to speak of his conduct.”

“Ah! The Duke comes from a family of great lovers.”

“Lovers of women who were not their wives!”

“Those Kings loved incomparable women. King François loved above all others Madame de Chateaubriand and Madame d’Étampes; but these, Madame, were goddesses, not women. And my master’s father, great Henri Deux, loved throughout his life Diane de Poitiers. She too was a goddess. But there is one goddess incomparably beyond all others, a hundred times more beautiful, a thousand times more fascinating. She wears the crown of England; and I swear on my life that when my master sees her he will never think of another woman.”

“All the same I should wish to see a man before I married him!”

“Then, Your Majesty, allow me to bring him to you.”

“I am but a woman, dear Monkey. My ministers command me. They speak against the marriage.”

“The greatest Queen on Earth in fear of her ministers!”

“And my people … they murmur against the marriage.”

“Are you not their ruler, Madame?”

“In the long run rulers rule only by the will of their people.”

Simiers was growing angry. Always there was hope and then this perpetual frustration. Sometimes he felt it was all more than he could endure.

He knew who his enemies were. He realized that he was being outwitted by the Protestant Party, and at the head of that Party was the man who had on more than one occasion prevented the Queen’s marrying a French suitor.

The climax came when the Queen invited Monsieur Simiers to accompany her in her barge from Hampton to Greenwich. Elizabeth had been in conversation with Simiers and, as soon as the Frenchman took his leave of her, a shot rang out. It had been fired from a nearby boat.

There was great consternation, and in the confusion, the marksman, in his boat, made off. One of the Queen’s bargemen lay on the deck of the royal barge, shot through the arm.

The Queen was calmer than those about her, in spite of the fact that she believed this to have been an attempt on her life. She unwound her scarf and bound up the man’s wound herself.

“Be of good cheer,” she comforted him. “I shall see that you never want. That bullet was meant for your Queen, and you took it in her stead.”

But the bullet had passed very close to Monsieur Simiers, and he had his own ideas about the intended target.

Back in his apartments he paced up and down in angry exasperation.

“Now,” he said to the members of his suite, “they are attempting to take my life. What can I do? How can I bring about a match between Monsieur and such a woman? They are barbarians, these people. And I know who is the instigator of this plot. It is Leicester. Would to God some of his enemies would take it into their heads to kill him. If that could be done, much trouble might be saved.”

“He still hopes,” said one of Simiers’ men, “to marry the Queen himself.”

“I do not see how that can be,” said another, “for I heard news of my lord of Leicester only the other day and, if it is true, he must have lost all hope of marrying Her Majesty.”

“What story is this?”

“It is said that he has married the Countess of Essex.”

Simiers threw back his head and laughed aloud. Then he became serious. “Did not the Earl of Essex die mysteriously in Ireland some time ago?”

“That is so.”

“And there was an inquiry into his death conducted by Leicester’s brother-in-law! Come, this is the best news I have heard since I first set foot in this land. We have played Monsieur Leicester’s game too long. Now he shall play ours.”

Simiers presented himself to the Queen.

“Your Majesty blooms like a rose … and that after your mishap on the river!”

“’Twas nothing, Monsieur Monkey. A Queen must be prepared for any possibility.”

“She needs a strong arm to protect her.”

“Do not fear, Monsieur; she is strong enough to protect herself.”

“She needs the affection of a husband. Will you not sign this document which I have prepared? It is a summons to my master to appear before you. Once he sees this he will come with all speed. Then you will see for yourself how he adores you; and, Your Majesty, so handsome is he, that I doubt not you will find him the most irresistible man you have ever set eyes upon.”

She pretended to consider this. How could she send for him? Did she want trouble with France? To send for him and refuse him would be an insult they would never overlook. One did not inspect Princes as one did a horse.

“Ah, would it were in my power, dear Monkey. These ministers of mine …”

“Your Majesty should marry. Is not marriage in the air? Those about you enjoy its blessings. Will Your Majesty remain aloof from them?”

“Those about me? You mean … some of my ladies?”

“Nay, Your Majesty; I was referring to my lord of Leicester and his recent marriage to the beautiful Countess of Essex.”

She put out a hand as though to steady herself. He snatched it and put it to his lips.

She did not see his ugly face. She only saw those two together: Lettice, who was not unlike herself, but younger and more beautiful, and Robert, her favorite whom she loved as she would never love another person.

She could not doubt the words of this man. She wondered why she had not guessed what had happened. She remembered now the change in Robert and the mincing complacency of that she-wolf. There had been secret looks among her ladies and gentlemen.

Now she was possessed by such rage as she had never felt before.

“Where is this document, man?” she cried harshly.

“Here … here, Your Majesty.” Simiers turned from her to hide the triumph in his eyes. He spread the papers on a table and handed her a pen.

Even her signature was an angry one.

“Your Majesty, my master will be enraptured. This will be the happiest day of his life …”

“Leave me now,” she said.

Sly and knowledgeable, hiding his delight, he bowed low and hurried away before she could change her mind.

Now there was no longer need for restraint. “Where are my women?” she shouted. “Why do they not attend me? Kat … you sly devil, where are you? What have you been doing all these weeks?”

They came running in and stood before her, trembling.

“What news of Leicester?” she spat out at them.

They were silent, each waiting for another to speak first.

She stamped her foot. “What of that snake?” she screamed. “What of Leicester?” She took the woman nearest her and shook her until she begged for mercy.

The Queen’s hair had broken loose from her headdress; her eyes grew wilder and purple color flamed into her face.

No one dared speak until at last Kat said: “Dearest Majesty … dearest … dearest …”

“Did you not hear me?” shouted the Queen. “I said: ‘What of that snake who calls himself a man?’ So he has married that sly animal, has he? He has married that low creature, that she-wolf?”

“Majesty,” said Kat, “it is true. They married …”

“They married!” cried Elizabeth. “Did they ask my consent? Did they keep it secret? Did you? Did you … and you?” Each “you” was accompanied by a stinging blow on the cheek for all those nearest. “And you … and you and … you … knew this, and thought it meet to keep it from me?”

“Dearest, dearest!” begged Kat. And in an agonized whisper she added: “Remember … remember … do not betray your feelings thus.”

Elizabeth was swaying vertiginously with the intensity of her emotion.

“Quick!” cried Kat. “Help me unlace Her Majesty’s bodice. There, my love. Kat has you. Come, lie on your couch, darling. You’ll feel better then. Kat’s here beside you.”

With great presence of mind Kat dismissed all the women; she knelt by the couch, chafing the Queen’s hands while the tears ran down Kat’s cheeks and words babbled from her lips. “Oh, my darling, I would have given my life to spare you this. But, dearest, you would not marry him. You must not blame him …”

“Blame him!” flared Elizabeth. “By God’s Body, I’ll blame him! He shall pay for all the pleasure he has had with her.”

“Darling, it was only natural. You see, he has been so long unmarried.”

“Have I not been long unmarried?”

“But it was my darling’s royal wish.”

“They shall lose their heads for this, and I’ll see the deed done.”