“And how do you propose to bring about my release?”

“Since the sickness of the Earl, rules have become a little lax at Wingfield Manor.”

“It’s true,” Mary agreed.

“I have not been idle. I have made friends among the guards and servants here. I do not think it would be a major task for you to walk out of this Manor in the dress of one of your women.”

Mary looked at Seton and Jane Kennedy who were sitting tense, their needles held above the canvas, and she knew they were as excited as she was.

“It would be Lochleven all over again,” Mary murmured.

“It was done there,” said Dacre. “It can be done here. Only here you have more friends to help you. I tell you, we cannot fail.”

He looked across at Seton. “The Queen could wear a headdress like yours. She could wear your gown and cloak. You could wear hers. You could be seen together in the great hall . . . and the Queen—in your gown, in your cloak—could walk out, leaving you in her clothes in the hall.” He turned to Jane Kennedy. “You could be there also, talking as you would talk to the Queen, addressing her as ‘Your Majesty’ . . . and so you two could walk back to these apartments while the Queen walked out of the Manor . . . out to the horses which would be waiting for her. The deception could be kept up for hours . . . perhaps a day or more. It would not be so difficult, particularly if the Earl and Countess should leave for Buxton.”

“But if they left,” said Seton, “someone would surely be sent to take their places. And a new jailor would most certainly be watchful.”

“It must happen before the new man arrives,” declared Dacre.

“In that case,” said Jane, “before the Shrewsburys leave.”

“If necessary. But they will be busy with their preparation. There could not be a better moment to put this plan into action. What does Your Majesty say?”

“I will think of it.”

“There must be no delay.”

“I shall give you my answer within a few days.”

Dacre was excited. She would agree. There was nothing she longed for so much as escape. This would be the end of Norfolk’s ambition to marry the Queen. He would learn what it cost to meddle in the affairs of the Dacres.

As for Northumberland and Westmorland, they chafed against delay. But he would be able to tell them that the Queen liked the plan.

In a short time the Catholics of the North would be in revolt against the Protestant Queen of England.

AS SOON AS DACRE had gone, Mary put aside her tapestry.

“What does Your Majesty think of the plan?” asked Seton.

“It is a good one. You know, Seton, you and I are of the same height. If you dressed my hair as yours is dressed, and I put on your clothes, I’ll warrant I could impersonate you so that many would be deceived.”

“I am sure you could.”

“And you could impersonate me, Seton. Who could know me better than you? When I have gone you could take to my bed for a day or so—and nothing would be discovered.”

Jane Kennedy said, “We could rehearse it. It is so simple. I know it would succeed.”

“I wonder,” put in Seton, “why Your Majesty did not at once agree to the plan.”

“You have forgotten, Seton, that I am affianced to the Duke of Norfolk. I could not agree to do this until I had consulted him.”

There was silence. Then Seton asked: “You think it is wise to commit this plan to paper?”

“As you know, I write to him in code. As my affianced husband I could not dream of acting without his approval. But I will write to him now and my letter shall be taken to him with all speed. Seton, bring my writing materials, and we will not have a moment’s delay.”

BESS FUMED about the Manor. She was ready to leave for Buxton, but there was no answer to the request she had made to the Queen.

Bess believed it imperative that the Earl should be removed from Wingfield, for as he grew better his worries were returning and she was not going to risk another attack which, she was well aware, could be fatal.

She had explained the details of her husband’s illness to Elizabeth, but it seemed that the Queen believed that the task she had assigned to Shrewsbury was more important than his life.

She is wrong there! Bess told herself. Queen or no Queen, I shall not stand by and see poor Shrewsbury suffer such another attack which will doubtless kill him or leave him an invalid for the rest of his life. We are going to Buxton.

Bess went to the window, as she did every few minutes, to see if there were any signs of the Queen’s messenger. She clenched her fist in anger. No sign of a rider!

She summoned certain of her servants.

“We are leaving for Buxton this day,” she told them. “Have all made ready for our departure.”

She then made her way to the Earl’s bedchamber where he was lying on his bed, still very weak.

“All is well,” she told him. “We are leaving for Buxton.”

“So . . . she has given her consent? Oh, Bess, you are indeed a wonderful woman. When I think of the way she behaved toward Knollys.”

Bess smiled complacently. To tell him the truth would very likely bring on another attack. The thing she must do was get Shrewsbury well and then consider how they would meet the Queen’s anger.

“I told you you had only to leave matters to me,” she said. “Now your servants are coming to prepare you for the journey. We could leave within the hour.” She laughed. “You will want to say farewell to your dear Queen, so the preparations should start without delay. I will leave you now because there is so much to do.”

THE EARL AND COUNTESS had taken their leave of Mary who stood at her window watching their departure. She could hear the Countess’s authoritative voice giving orders. The guards had been put on their mettle. On pain of death they were to guard the Queen of Scots until her new keeper arrived, which would be ere long. In the meantime all was to go on at the Manor as if the Earl and Countess were in residence.

The Earl was placed in a litter because he was too weak to ride, and as he was being carried away from the Manor he looked back and, from the group of servants watching, he picked out one desolate figure. Little Eleanor Britton was sadly watching his departure.

So the Shrewsburys left for Buxton, the strong-minded Bess alone being aware that they did so without Elizabeth’s consent.

THERE WAS ALERTNESS in Mary’s apartments. No guardian had been sent to take the place of the Shrewsburys and it was inevitable that rules were relaxed with the absence of the sharp-eyed Bess. Never had there been such ideal conditions for escape. Dacre called. The time was now, he insisted. Why delay? With each passing hour their plans could become more difficult to carry out.

“I will give you my answer very soon,” Mary told him.

This she was able to do, for Norfolk had answered her letter as soon as he received it and had commanded his messenger to take his reply to the Queen without delay.

Certainly she must not fall in with this scheme which Dacre was proposing, he wrote. It would be the utmost folly, for Dacre’s one idea was to take her out of England to Flanders or Spain—either to the Duke of Alva or King Philip—and the plan was to marry her to Don Jon of Austria.

Norfolk explained that Dacre was no friend of his on account of a dispute between them concerning the rights of the late Lord Dacre’s daughter to inherit the family wealth, and that Dacre’s aim was not so much to aid her as to foil the plans for that marriage to which both he, Norfolk, and she, the Queen of Scots, were pledged in secret.

When Dacre next called at the manor, Mary told him that she had been in touch with Norfolk to whom she was affianced and that he advised her not to attempt to escape.

Dacre found it difficult to hide his chagrin; and his hatred for Norfolk intensified.