"It was not Anne?" he murmured. "She did not----"
"She tried to save your life," I answered; "but they would not listen to her."
As he spoke, he straightened himself with an effort and stood up. He was growing more like himself.
"No," I answered. "She sent for me and told me her terms. But Kingston and the others would not listen to them. You would have been dead now, though I did all I could to save you, if Penruddocke had not brought this news of the queen."
"She is dying. The Spanish Ambassador," I added, to clinch the matter, for I saw he doubted, "rode through here this afternoon to pay his court to the Princess Elizabeth at Hatfield."
He looked down at the ground, thinking deeply. Most men would have been unable to think at all, unable to concentrate their thoughts on anything save their escape from death. But a life of daily risk and hazard had so hardened this man that I was certain, as I watched him, that he was not praying nor giving thanks. He was already pondering how he might make the most out of the change; how he might to the best advantage sell his knowledge of the government whose hours were numbered to the government which soon would be. The life of intrigue had become second nature to him.
He looked up and our eyes met. We gazed at one another.
"Why are you here?" he said curiously. "Why did they leave you? Why were you the one to stop to set me free, Master Carey?"
"Cludde!" He called it out. Even his self-mastery could not cope with this surprise. "Cludde," he said again--said it twice in a lower voice.
"Yes, Cludde," I answered, meeting and yet shrinking from his questioning eyes, "my name is Cludde. So is yours. I tried to save your life, because I learned from Mistress Anne----"
I paused. I shrank from telling him that which, as it seemed to me, would strike him to the ground in shame and horror. But he had no fear.
"That you are my father," I answered slowly. "I am Francis Cludde, the son whom you deserted many years ago, and to whom Sir Anthony gave a home at Coton."
I expected him to do anything except what he did. He stared at me with astonished eyes for a minute, and then a low whistle issued from his lips.
"My son, are you! My son!" he said coolly. "And how long have you known this, young sir?"