gout--and thus sheltered himself for a season from the peltings of the
storm. Walsingham, more manful, stood to his post, but could not gain a
hearing. It was the culprit that should have spoken, and spoken in time.
"Why, why did you not write yourself?" was the plaintive cry of all the
Earl's friends, from highest to humblest. "But write to her now," they
exclaimed, "at any rate; and, above all, send her a present, a love-
gift." "Lay out two or three hundred crowns in some rare thing, for
a token to her Majesty," said Christopher Hatton.

Strange that his colleagues and his rivals should have been obliged
to advise Leicester upon the proper course to pursue; that they--not
himself--should have been the first to perceive that it was the enraged
woman, even more than the offended sovereign, who was to be propitiated
and soothed. In truth, all the woman had been aroused in Elizabeth's
bosom. She was displeased that her favourite should derive power and
splendour from any source but her own bounty. She was furious that
his wife, whom she hated, was about to share in his honours. For the
mischievous tongues of court-ladies had been collecting or fabricating
many unpleasant rumours. A swarm of idle but piquant stories had been
buzzing about the Queen's ears, and stinging her into a frenzy of
jealousy. The Countess--it was said--was on the point of setting forth
for the Netherlands, to join the Earl, with a train of courtiers and
ladies, coaches and side-saddles, such as were never seen before--where
the two were about to establish themselves in conjugal felicity, as well
as almost royal state. What a prospect for the jealous and imperious
sovereign! "Coaches and side-saddles! She would show the upstarts that
there was one Queen, and that her name was Elizabeth, and that there
was no court but hers." And so she continued to storm and swear, and
threaten unutterable vengeance, till all her courtiers quaked in their
shoes.