His lordship, who was mentally near-sighted,
laughed.
"He'll change his tone before long," said he.
She set her hands upon his shoulders, and looked up adoringly
into his handsome gipsy face. Never had he known her so fond as
in these last days since her surrender to him that night upon the
terrace at Whitehall, never had she been more the woman and less
the queen in her bearing towards him.
"You are sure, Robin? You are quite sure?" she pleaded.
He drew her close, she yielding herself to his embrace. "With so
much at stake could I be less than sure, sweet?" said he, and so
convinced her--the more easily since he afforded her the
conviction she desired.
That was on the night of Saturday, and early on Monday came the
news which justified him of his assurances. It was brought him to
Windsor by one of Amy's Cumnor servants, a fellow named Bowes,
who, with the others, had been away at Abingdon Fair yesterday
afternoon, and had returned to find his mistress dead at the
stairs' foot--the result of an accident, as all believed.
It was not quite the news that my lord had been expecting. It
staggered him a little that an accident so very opportune should
have come to resolve his difficulties, obviating the need for
recourse to those more dangerous measures with which he had
charged Sir Richard Verney.
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