And Mrs. Marrett's good-humoured face broke into mirth at the thought of the Ambassador's impotence and duplicity.
Anthony's arrival in London a few days before Christmas removed the one obstacle to Isabel's satisfaction—that he was not there to share it with her. The two went about together most of the day under their father's care, when he was not busy at his book, and saw all that was to be seen.
One afternoon as they were just leaving the courtyard of the Tower, which they had been visiting with a special order, a slight reddish-haired man, who came suddenly out of a doorway of the White Tower, stopped a moment irresolutely, and then came towards them, bare-headed and bowing. He had sloping shoulders and a serious-looking mouth, with a reddish beard and moustache, and had an air of strangely mingled submissiveness and capability. His voice too, as he spoke, was at once deferential and decided.
"I ask your pardon, Mr. Norris," he said. "Perhaps you do not remember me."
"I have seen you before," said the other, puzzled for a moment.
"Yes, sir," said the man, "down at Great Keynes; I was in service at the Hall, sir."
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Norris, "I remember you perfectly. Lackington, is it not?"
The man bowed again.
"I left about eight years ago, sir; and by the blessing of God, have gained a little post under the Government. But I wished to tell you, sir, that I have been happily led to change my religion. I was a Papist, sir, you know."
Mr. Norris congratulated him.
"I thank you, sir," said Lackington.
The two children were looking at him; and he turned to them and bowed again.
"Mistress Isabel and Master Anthony, sir, is it not?"
"I remember you," said Isabel a little shyly, "at least, I think so."
Lackington bowed again as if gratified; and turned to their father.
"If you are leaving, Mr. Norris, would you allow me to walk with you a few steps? I have much I would like to ask you of my old master and mistress."
The four passed out together; the two children in front; and as they went Lackington asked most eagerly after the household at the Hall, and especially after Mr. James, for whom he seemed to have a special affection.
"It is rumoured," said Mr. Norris, "that he is going abroad."
"Indeed, sir," said the servant, with a look of great interest, "I had heard it too, sir; but did not know whether to believe it."
Lackington also gave many messages of affection to others of the household, to Piers the bailiff, and a couple of the foresters: and finished by entreating Mr. Norris to use him as he would, telling him how anxious he was to be of service to his friends, and asking to be entrusted with any little errands or commissions in London that the country gentleman might wish performed.
"I shall count it, sir, a privilege," said the servant, "and you shall find me prompt and discreet."
One curious incident took place just as Lackington was taking his leave at the turning down into Wharf Street; a man hurrying eastwards almost ran against them, and seemed on the point of apologising, but his face changed suddenly, and he spat furiously on the ground, mumbling something, and hurried on. Lackington seemed to see nothing.
"Why did he do that?" interrupted Mr. Norris, astonished.
"I ask your pardon, sir?" said Lackington interrogatively.
"That fellow! did you not see him spit at me?"
"I did not observe it, sir," said the servant; and presently took his leave.
"Why did that man spit at you, father?" asked Isabel, when they had come indoors.
"I cannot think, my dear; I have never seen him in my life."
"I think Lackington knew," said Anthony, with a shrewd air.
"Lackington! Why, Lackington did not even see him."
"That was just it," said Anthony.
Anthony's talk about Cambridge during these first evenings in London was fascinating to Isabel, if not to their father, too. It concerned of course himself and his immediate friends, and dealt with such subjects as cock-fighting a good deal; but he spoke also of the public disputations and the theological champions who crowed and pecked, not unlike cocks themselves, while the theatre rang with applause and hooting. The sport was one of the most popular at the universities at this time. But above all his tales of the Queen's visit a few years before attracted the girl, for was she not to see the Queen with her own eyes?
"Oh! father," said the lad, "I would I had been there five years ago when she came. Master Taylor told me of it. They acted the Aulularia, you know, in King's Chapel on the Sunday evening. Master Taylor took a part, I forget what; and he told me how she laughed and clapped. And then there was a great disputation before her, one day, in St. Mary's Church, and the doctors argued, I forget what about, but Master Taylor says that of course the Genevans had the best of it; and the Queen spoke, too, in Latin, though she did not wish to, but my lord of Ely persuaded her to it; so you see she could not have learned it by heart, as some said. And she said she would give some great gift to the University; but Master Taylor says they are still waiting for it; but it must come soon, you see, because it is the Queen's Grace who has promised it; but Master Taylor says he hopes she has forgotten it, but he laughs when I ask him what he means, and says it again."
"Who is this Master Taylor?" asked his father.
"Oh! he is a Fellow of King's," said Anthony, "and he told me about the Provost too. The Provost is half a Papist, they say: he is very old now, and he has buried all the vessels and the vestments of the Chapel, they say, somewhere where no one knows; and he hopes the old religion will come back again some day; and then he will dig them up. But that is Papistry, and no one wants that at Cambridge. And others say that he is a Papist altogether, and has a priest in his house sometimes. But I do not think he can be a Papist, because he was there when the Queen was there, bowing and smiling, says Master Taylor; and looking on the Queen so earnestly, as if he worshipped her, says Master Taylor, all the time the Chancellor was talking to her before they went into the chapel for the Te Deum. But they wished they had kept some of the things, like the Provost, says Master Taylor, because they were much put to it when her Grace came down for stuffs to cover the communion-tables and for surplices, for Cecil said she would be displeased if all was bare and poor. Is it true, father," asked Anthony, breaking off, "that the Queen likes popish things, and has a crucifix and tapers on the table in her chapel?"
"Ah! my son," said Mr. Norris, smiling, "you must ask one who knows. And what else happened?"
"Well," said Anthony, "the best is to come. They had plays, you know, the Dido, and one called Ezechias, before the Queen. Oh! and she sent for one of the boys, they say, and—and kissed him, they say; but I think that cannot be true."
"Well, my son, go on!"
"Oh! and some of them thought they would have one more play before she went; but