She is in Norfolk, I think." Then he let flow out of him the stream that always ran in his heart like sorrowful music ever since the day when first, as a page, in my Lord Shrewsbury's house in Sheffield, he had set eyes on that queen of sorrows.

Then, again, upon the occasion of his journey to Paris, he had met with Mr.Morgan, her servant, and the Bishop of Glasgow, her friend, whose talk had excited and inspired him.

He had learned from them something more of her glories and beauties, and remembering what he had seen of her, adored her the more.

He leaned back now, shading his eyes from the candles upon the table, and began to sing his love and his queen.

He told of new insults that had been put upon her, new deprivations of what was left to her of liberty; he did not speak now of Elizabeth by name, since a fountain, even of talk, should not give out at once sweet water and bitter; but he spoke of the day when Mary should come herself to the throne of England, and take that which was already hers; when the night should roll away, and the morning-star arise; and the Faith should come again like the flowing tide, and all things be again as they had been from the beginning.