gave Frobisher an evasive answer. Drake looked sideways again.
But it was not until much later, when these two sat alone in the empty room, over a fire of sea-coal, that Drake put his question. Then he puffed at his long pipe, and stretched his massive legs out before him, and looked up at Beauvallet out of his narrow, all-seeing eyes. ‘What devilment, Nick? Let me have it.’
Beauvallet brought his quick gaze up from the red heart of the fire, and looked challengingly. ‘Why must I needs have devilment in mind?’
Drake pointed the stem of his pipe. ‘I know you, Nick, d’ye see? You’ve not given me the full sum of it, but Martin jumped your fine secret for you.’
So he had it then, in a few graphic words. It made his jaw drop a little, but it made him twinkle too. ‘Pretty, very pretty!’ he said. ‘But what now?’
‘I shall go to Spain to fetch her,’ answered Sir Nicholas, in much the same tone as he would have said he would go to Westminster.
At that Drake let out a mighty echoing laugh. ‘God amend all!’ He sobered suddenly, and leaning forward took Beauvallet's arm in a strong hold. ‘Look you, Nick, ha’ done. Art too good a man to be lost.’
The gleaming blue eyes met those long grey ones for an instant. ‘Do you think I shall be lost then?’
Drake twisted his beard upwards, and chewed the end of it. ‘Well, you’re human.’ His shoulders began to shake again. ‘Ho, pull me Philip's long nose, Nick, if ye see his Satanic Majesty! You would come safe out of hell, I dare swear. But how to come into Spain? Your smuggling port?’
‘Nay, I had thought of it, but it's to court exposure. I must have papers to show at need. The plague is on it we have no ambassador in Madrid today.’
‘English papers would never serve,’ Drake said. ‘You’re frustrated at the very outset. Go to, put the folly aside.’
‘Not I, by God! I shall try my fortune with my French kinsmen.’
‘God's Death, have you any?’
‘A-many. One in particular would be glad to serve me for old times sake, I believe. The Marquis de Belrémy, with whom I travelled many leagues on the Continent, years ago. Ay, and we saw some scrapes together, God wot!’ He laughed softly, remembering. ‘If he can put me in the way to get French papers, well. If not – I shall still find a way.’
Drake puffed in silence for a moment. ‘And a licence to travel over seas, Master Madman. Letters of Marque won’t serve for this emprise. It's in my mind the Queen may have other plans for you than to lose you in a harebrained venture to Spain.’
‘Trust me to get a licence. If the Queen will not, think you Walsingham would be so nice?’
Drake pulled a grimace. ‘Ay, marry, we know he’d be glad enough to send a spy into Spain. Beshrew your heart, Nick, it's madness! Do you hold your life of so mean account?’
‘Nay, but it's charmed. Yourself said so, Drake. Where lies the Court?’
‘At Westminster.’
‘Then I’m for Westminster tomorrow,’ said Sir Nicholas.
He came to the palace in the forenoon of the next day, very bravely tricked out in a slashed doublet, scented with musk, and his beard fresh trimmed. He had a cloak of the Burgundian cut aswirl from his shoulders, and caught up carelessly over one arm. It was not difficult to gain access to the palace, especially for Sir Nicholas Beauvallet, who was known to be a favourite with the Queen's Grace. She had always a soft corner in her heart for a handsome dare-devil.
Sir Nicholas reached, without difficulty, one of the Long Galleries to which he had been directed. Some of the Queen'sladies were gathered here, and many of the court gallants. He learned that the Queen was closeted with the French Ambassador, Sir Francis Walsingham and Sir James Crofts in attendance. This he had from the Vice-Chancellor, Sir Christopher Hatton, strutting in the gallery. Hatton gave him a cool, polite greeting, and two fingers to do what he willed with. Beauvallet let them fall
But it was not until much later, when these two sat alone in the empty room, over a fire of sea-coal, that Drake put his question. Then he puffed at his long pipe, and stretched his massive legs out before him, and looked up at Beauvallet out of his narrow, all-seeing eyes. ‘What devilment, Nick? Let me have it.’
Beauvallet brought his quick gaze up from the red heart of the fire, and looked challengingly. ‘Why must I needs have devilment in mind?’
Drake pointed the stem of his pipe. ‘I know you, Nick, d’ye see? You’ve not given me the full sum of it, but Martin jumped your fine secret for you.’
So he had it then, in a few graphic words. It made his jaw drop a little, but it made him twinkle too. ‘Pretty, very pretty!’ he said. ‘But what now?’
‘I shall go to Spain to fetch her,’ answered Sir Nicholas, in much the same tone as he would have said he would go to Westminster.
At that Drake let out a mighty echoing laugh. ‘God amend all!’ He sobered suddenly, and leaning forward took Beauvallet's arm in a strong hold. ‘Look you, Nick, ha’ done. Art too good a man to be lost.’
The gleaming blue eyes met those long grey ones for an instant. ‘Do you think I shall be lost then?’
Drake twisted his beard upwards, and chewed the end of it. ‘Well, you’re human.’ His shoulders began to shake again. ‘Ho, pull me Philip's long nose, Nick, if ye see his Satanic Majesty! You would come safe out of hell, I dare swear. But how to come into Spain? Your smuggling port?’
‘Nay, I had thought of it, but it's to court exposure. I must have papers to show at need. The plague is on it we have no ambassador in Madrid today.’
‘English papers would never serve,’ Drake said. ‘You’re frustrated at the very outset. Go to, put the folly aside.’
‘Not I, by God! I shall try my fortune with my French kinsmen.’
‘God's Death, have you any?’
‘A-many. One in particular would be glad to serve me for old times sake, I believe. The Marquis de Belrémy, with whom I travelled many leagues on the Continent, years ago. Ay, and we saw some scrapes together, God wot!’ He laughed softly, remembering. ‘If he can put me in the way to get French papers, well. If not – I shall still find a way.’
Drake puffed in silence for a moment. ‘And a licence to travel over seas, Master Madman. Letters of Marque won’t serve for this emprise. It's in my mind the Queen may have other plans for you than to lose you in a harebrained venture to Spain.’
‘Trust me to get a licence. If the Queen will not, think you Walsingham would be so nice?’
Drake pulled a grimace. ‘Ay, marry, we know he’d be glad enough to send a spy into Spain. Beshrew your heart, Nick, it's madness! Do you hold your life of so mean account?’
‘Nay, but it's charmed. Yourself said so, Drake. Where lies the Court?’
‘At Westminster.’
‘Then I’m for Westminster tomorrow,’ said Sir Nicholas.
He came to the palace in the forenoon of the next day, very bravely tricked out in a slashed doublet, scented with musk, and his beard fresh trimmed. He had a cloak of the Burgundian cut aswirl from his shoulders, and caught up carelessly over one arm. It was not difficult to gain access to the palace, especially for Sir Nicholas Beauvallet, who was known to be a favourite with the Queen's Grace. She had always a soft corner in her heart for a handsome dare-devil.
Sir Nicholas reached, without difficulty, one of the Long Galleries to which he had been directed. Some of the Queen'sladies were gathered here, and many of the court gallants. He learned that the Queen was closeted with the French Ambassador, Sir Francis Walsingham and Sir James Crofts in attendance. This he had from the Vice-Chancellor, Sir Christopher Hatton, strutting in the gallery. Hatton gave him a cool, polite greeting, and two fingers to do what he willed with. Beauvallet let them fall
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