"Yes, madam," answered Wayland; "but may I ask what is your further
purpose? I only wish to know, that I may guide myself by your wishes.
The whole country is afloat, and streaming towards the Castle of
Kenilworth. It will be difficult travelling thither, even if we had the
necessary passports for safe-conduct and free admittance; unknown
and unfriended, we may come by mishap. Your ladyship will forgive my
speaking my poor mind--were we not better try to find out the maskers,
and again join ourselves with them?" The Countess shook her head, and
her guide proceeded, "Then I see but one other remedy."
"Speak out, then," said the lady, not displeased, perhaps, that he
should thus offer the advice which she was ashamed to ask; "I believe
thee faithful--what wouldst thou counsel?"
"That I should warn Master Tressilian," said Wayland, "that you are in
this place. I am right certain he would get to horse with a few of Lord
Sussex's followers, and ensure your personal safety."
"And is it to ME you advise," said the Countess, "to put myself under
the protection of Sussex, the unworthy rival of the noble Leicester?"
Then, seeing the surprise with which Wayland stared upon her, and afraid
of having too strongly intimated her interest in Leicester, she added,
"And for Tressilian, it must not be--mention not to him, I charge you,
my unhappy name; it would but double MY misfortunes, and involve HIM in
dangers beyond the power of rescue." She paused; but when she observed
that Wayland continued to look on her with that anxious and uncertain
gaze which indicated a doubt whether her brain was settled, she assumed
an air of composure, and added, "Do thou but guide me to Kenilworth
Castle, good fellow, and thy task is ended, since I will then judge what
further is to be done. Thou hast yet been true to me--here is something
that will make thee rich amends."
She offered the artist a ring containing a valuable stone. Wayland
looked at it, hesitated a moment, and then returned it. "Not," he said,
"that I am above your kindness, madam, being but a poor fellow, who have
been forced, God help me! to live by worse shifts than the bounty of
such a person as you. But, as my old master the farrier used to say to
his customers, 'No cure, no pay.' We are not yet in Kenilworth Castle,
and it is time enough to discharge your guide, as they say, when you
take your boots off. I trust in God your ladyship is as well assured of
fitting reception when you arrive, as you may hold yourself certain
of my best endeavours to conduct you thither safely. I go to get the
horses; meantime, let me pray you once more, as your poor physician as
well as guide, to take some sustenance."