They turned down by Queen Eleanor's Cross into the street leading to Whitehall itself. They pa.s.sed through the Holbein Gate, down King's Street; and close under the shadow of the h.o.a.ry abbey of St. Peter they halted at Raleigh's lodgings. Captain Dawe and his guide were resting in the cool porch and awaiting them.

Chapter XXII.

THE QUEEN.

John Morgan, yeoman and forester, rose from his knee, and stood, with bowed head and fumbling fingers, abashed in a most august presence. He plucked nervously at his cap, and dared not raise his face to confront the calm countenance of his sovereign. Elizabeth, for her part, scanned him most critically from top to toe. She noted the cut of his clothes, the stiffness of his ruff, the size of the buckles on his shoon; from these to the colour of his hair and the healthy tan of his skin, nothing escaped her. She was rapidly measuring him, height and girth, with the proportions of her handsome Devon knight who had led the shy young stalwart in.

"So this is the gallant young fellow who bled in thy service?" she said to Raleigh.

"And in the service of your Majesty," added the knight. "He saved the life of your humblest servant, but he also fought and bled in defence of your Majesty's honour and the integrity of your dominions."

Elizabeth looked again at the bent head. "Dost know the colour of mine eyes, Master Morgan?" she asked sharply.

"The colour of heaven, your Majesty," gasped Johnnie.

The Queen laughed. "I thought thou hadst not looked at them. 'Tis easy to see that thou hast kept company with a certain Walter Raleigh; thou canst a.s.sume modesty and yet flatter as glibly as he."

"Your Majesty!" cried Raleigh.

"Hath excellent eyesight, thank G.o.d!" added Elizabeth. "I wish I had found Master Morgan a simpler gentleman. I am sick of pretty speeches, and thought to find a plain, unspoiled Englishman who would speak naught but truth. Wilt let me see what colour thine eyes are, Master Morgan? I have noted every hair on the top of thy head."

Johnnie raised a flushed face to the pale, cool countenance of his sovereign.

"Dost not find mine eyes _green_?" she asked, and leaned a little forward in her chair.

"There is a glint of the verdure of England in them, your Majesty, and the sheen of the blue of her skies and her seas."

"And thou dost consider them, therefore, to be perfect for England's Queen?"

"G.o.d made your Majesty, and we daily thank Him for His abounding goodness and wisdom."

A faint blush stole into Elizabeth's cheeks, and the blue-green eyes danced. "Thou dost see merrie England mirrored in these pale orbs?"

"The country lives in your Majesty's heart, and the heart looks out through the eyes."

Elizabeth sat back. She turned to Raleigh.

"They breed poets in the shadow of Dean's oaks," she said.

"When first I met Master Morgan he was writing verses in the woodlands."

"And to whom?"

"A pretty maiden."

"Ah! What colour are her eyes, bold forester?"

"Blue, an't please your Majesty."

"It doth not please me at all. I thought thy conceit about the 'green and blue' of England very pretty and spontaneous for me. Now I perceive 'tis but an old compliment thou hast paid a thousand times before to some woodland wench."

"Your Majesty mistakes. The thought never came to my mind before I uttered it just now. I know not what made me think it then, unless 'twas your Majesty's presence inspired me. I am a dull fellow, and no poet, as Mistress Dawe often tells me."

"Hast never told her that her eyes are blue?"

"I have, your Majesty."

"And that she is the fairest maid on earth?"

"I have said that also, and 'tis G.o.d's truth that I think her to be so."

"Humph!"

The exclamation was a little unroyal. Raleigh, who had stood in almost mute astonishment at Morgan's strange readiness of tongue and aptness of expression, now began to fear that the blunt yeoman was going to undo all his previous good work. Elizabeth Tudor was not accustomed to hear that some other "maid" was the fairest on earth.

"When dost thou hope to wed this dainty nymph?"

"When the maid wills it, your Majesty."

"Hath she no father, then, to command her?"

"She hath; but he would not lay an order upon her, neither would I have him do so. Maidens will have their whims. I care not, so mine be constant."

"Thou dost find her wayward then?"

"All pretty things are fashioned so."

"Am I wayward, thinkest thou?"

"Your Majesty would be very woman but that you are also Queen."

"But I am a woman when my crown is off."

Johnnie shook his head. "G.o.d hath given your Majesty special graces, and such strength that the woman in you must obey the sovereign."

Elizabeth sighed. "Thou art right," she said. "Daily have I to beat the woman in me down, down. 'Tis hard to do it, for the woman will cry out for what is hers by nature. Canst thou not perceive, Master Morgan, that the struggle is bitter at times? Yet the woman in me must succ.u.mb; for, did she have her way, England, my England, would suffer."

"Therefore did G.o.d give the Queen strength," murmured Johnnie.

Elizabeth arose. "I will see thee again," she said. "Thou hast some homely mother wisdom, and a truthful tongue. It cheers a Queen's heart to learn that, far from courts and crowds, she hath valiant and loyal subjects like to thee. But I must ask thee to consider whether thou canst not serve us to more advantage than offers on a simple farm.

Thou hast given a little brave blood for England. The world is wide, and our foes are many. Doth not thy spirit cry out for wings at times?"

"It hath in these last few days, your Majesty."

"Yes?"