"My lord," replied Varney, "there will be rubs in the smoothest road,
specially when it leads uphill. Sussex's illness was to us a godsend,
from which I hoped much. He has recovered, indeed, but he is not now
more formidable than ere he fell ill, when he received more than one
foil in wrestling with your lordship. Let not your heart fail you, my
lord, and all shall be well."
"My heart never failed me, sir," replied Leicester.
"No, my lord," said Varney; "but it has betrayed you right often. He
that would climb a tree, my lord, must grasp by the branches, not by the
blossom."
"Well, well, well!" said Leicester impatiently; "I understand thy
meaning--my heart shall neither fail me nor seduce me. Have my retinue
in order--see that their array be so splendid as to put down, not only
the rude companions of Ratcliffe, but the retainers of every other
nobleman and courtier. Let them be well armed withal, but without any
outward display of their weapons, wearing them as if more for fashion's
sake than for use. Do thou thyself keep close to me, I may have business
for you."
The preparations of Sussex and his party were not less anxious than
those of Leicester.
"Thy Supplication, impeaching Varney of seduction," said the Earl to
Tressilian, "is by this time in the Queen's hand--I have sent it through
a sure channel. Methinks your suit should succeed, being, as it is,
founded in justice and honour, and Elizabeth being the very muster of
both. But--I wot not how--the gipsy" (so Sussex was wont to call his
rival on account of his dark complexion) "hath much to say with her in
these holyday times of peace. Were war at the gates, I should be one of
her white boys; but soldiers, like their bucklers and Bilboa blades, get
out of fashion in peace time, and satin sleeves and walking rapiers bear
the bell. Well, we must be gay, since such is the fashion.--Blount, hast
thou seen our household put into their new braveries? But thou knowest
as little of these toys as I do; thou wouldst be ready enow at disposing
a stand of pikes."
"My good lord," answered Blount, "Raleigh hath been here, and taken that
charge upon him--your train will glitter like a May morning. Marry, the
cost is another question. One might keep an hospital of old soldiers at
the charge of ten modern lackeys."
"He must not count cost to-day, Nicholas," said the Earl in reply. "I
am beholden to Raleigh for his care. I trust, though, he has remembered
that I am an old soldier, and would have no more of these follies than
needs must."