the difficulty that some people had in making out whether it was the lady or one of the gentlemen who said this, that, or the other; for the Countess found a half-manly dress convenient: and, as her attendants spoke to her with deference, and she had no idea of moderating her own powerful voice, it was excusable to mistake Bess of Hardwick for a builder of mansions, or for one of her own grooms. An incident which occurred on occasion of her fourth visit to the baths at length fixed many minds in the knowledge of which was the Countess.
The people outside saw, in the midst of a snow-storm on the hills, a man and horse plunging down the steep path from the brow with so much haste that everybody said it was a post. It was so. In a few minutes a splashed and damp rider on a reeking horse appeared close at hand, followed by breathless servants from the Hall, who came to find the Countess, and possibly to take their chance of hearing some news, as the messenger’s business was to deliver into the Countess’s own hand a letter from the Earl.
The letter was presently in her hand, opened, and read. It was evidently very short, for it was thrust into her bosom in half a minute. That half minute changed her whole aspect and mood. Her well-browned face was flushed; her eye was, if possible, haughtier than ever; but her manner was thoughtful; and, after saying “Let us go home,” she spoke no more. The idlers went about saying there was doubtless some news; but nobody could say for certain what it was. By night it was insisted by some people that the Pope and the Spaniards had landed, and were marching straight upon Buxton; others said the Scots had crossed the Border, and would be at Buxton in twenty-four hours; while others doubted whether Queen Elizabeth was murdered, or Queen Mary had got away to France. The one settled point was, that the Countess would not spend her Christmas at Buxton.
None of these things were true: but the Countess could scarcely have been more moved by any of them than by what her husband had really written. His letter contained but six lines. The Queen had just said to him what it was important for his wife to hear at once. The Queen had informed him that she meant to trust him as she would trust few. His wife would see what this meant; and she would not lose an hour in preparing at some one, if not all, of his country-seats a fitting reception for the guest who might be already on the way.
The Countess did not lose an hour. Before she slept she had consulted with the architect about alterations at Tutbury, alterations at Chatsworth, alterations in the Sheffield Castle, and at the Halls of Buxton and Hardwick and Chartley,—all having the same object,—the separation of the best suite of apartments from the rest of the house, in regard to attendance by servants, and the privacy of the occupants. Gadbury wondered; but he had too much work to do to spend time in speculation. If the Queen was coming to visit Lord Shrewsbury, he hoped he might see her, and perhaps be mentioned to her; but she could hardly be thinking of making a progress to all Lord Shrewsbury’s mansions,—and in mid-winter too. It struck him afterwards as odd that it had never occurred to him that there was another Queen in England at that time who had occupied three or four castles in twice as many months. But political news travelled slowly, and arrived irregularly; so that public curiosity was not so strong as it became after the roads were improved. Last May, Queen Mary of Scotland had crossed the Solway, and been taken to Carlisle. In October, there had been a sort of trial of her cause in a conference at York. As nothing but confusion had come out of that conference, another was held in London, the result of which was that Queen Mary must remain where she had come of her own accord till the English Government and the Scotch Protestants had settled the difficult point, what to do with her.
“What shall I ever do with her?” thought the Countess that night, many times over in her sleepless hours. It would be a dreadful restraint. She herself had always had her own way; it was well known that Queen Mary liked hers; and moreover that she so accomplished her aims as to convince some people that she had dealings with the powers of darkness. What were two such women to do, if compelled to live together? Here was a loss of all freedom and independence! Yet no,—it might be possible that the will and pleasure of both might be gratified through the resource of travelling. If Queen Mary should become as weary of captivity as most prisoners are, she would be glad to fall into the Countess’s habit of moving from one country house to another, all the year round. Determining to render all the Earl’s houses worthy of royal occupation, the Countess fell asleep on the happy idea.
When her husband met her at Tutbury, to make the necessary arrangements, she found that he had had but little quiet sleep for many nights. But for the suspicion which he would incur by refusal, nothing could have induced him to undertake a charge so burdensome in every way as the custody of the Queen of Scots. Sir Francis Knollys had given him some idea of the mere cost to her hosts of such an inmate: but that was the smallest evil.
“I will not be ruined,” protested the lady Bess, “for any stray princess on earth. The days of wandering princesses are over,—or should be over if I had my way; and those who will wander must pay their charges. I shall ask one of the Queens, or both, which is to pay for the dame’s lodgings, and, till that is settled, I shall suspend the works ordered.”
“The works must go on,” said the Earl; “and as for paying the workmen, leave that to me. I am responsible to the Queen.”
“Yes; but you are responsible to me too, for the improvements ordered at Sheffield Park and Wingfield. Those works are not to be stopped that we may give the funds as alms to a pair of Queens.”
“We cannot help ourselves, when the sovereign lays the charge upon us,” said the Earl.
“That is what I mean to make out,” replied the lady. “This Frenchwoman must have property,—jewels, plate, and funds abroad. Would
