Page 257 of A Column of Fire
The earl of Leicester was also in the room. He was the same age as the queen but he, too, dressed like a wealthy youngster. Today he wore an outfit of pale-blue silk with gold embroidery, and his shirt had ruffs at the wrists as well as the neck. To Ned it looked absurdly costly.
Leicester seemed pleased with himself, Ned noticed with unease. He was probably about to score points off Walsingham.
Ned and Walsingham bowed side by side.
The queen spoke in a voice as cold as February. ‘A man has been arrested in a tavern in Oxford for saying that he was on his way to London to shoot the queen.’
Oh, hell, thought Ned, we missed one. He recalled Walsingham’s words:Some day one of these traitors will slip through our fingers.
Leicester spoke in a supercilious drawl that seemed to imply that everything was absurd. ‘The man was armed with a heavy pistol, and he said that the queen was a serpent and a viper, and he would set her head on a pole.’
Trust Leicester to rub it in, Ned thought. But in truth the assassin did not sound seriously dangerous, if he was so indiscreet that he had been stopped when he was still sixty miles away from the queen.
Elizabeth said: ‘Why do I pay you all this money, if not to protect me from such people?’
That was outrageous: she was paying only seven hundred and fifty pounds a year, nowhere near enough, and Walsingham financed much of the work himself. But queens did not have to be fair.
Walsingham said: ‘Who is this man?’
Leicester said: ‘John Somerfield.’
Ned recognized the name: it was on the list. ‘We know of Somerfield, your majesty. He’s one of the Warwickshire Catholics. He’s mad.’
The earl of Leicester laughed sarcastically. ‘So, that means he’s no danger to her majesty, does it?’
Ned flushed. ‘It means he’s not likely to be part of a serious conspiracy, my lord.’
‘Oh, good! In that case his bullets obviously can’t kill anyone, can they?’
‘I didn’t mean—’
Leicester overrode Ned. ‘Your majesty, I wish you would give someone else the task of protecting your precious person.’ He added in an oily voice: ‘It is the most important task in the kingdom.’
He was a skilled flatterer, and unfortunately Elizabeth was charmed.
Walsingham spoke for the first time. ‘I have failed you, your majesty. I did not recognize the danger posed by Somerfield. No doubt there are many men in England who can do this job better. I beg you to give the responsibility to one of them. Speaking for myself, I would gladly put down the burden I have carried so long, and rest my weary bones.’
He did not mean this, of course, but it was probably the best way to handle the queen in her present mood. Ned realized he had been foolish to argue. If she was annoyed, then telling her she need not worry only irritated her further. Humble self-abnegation was more likely to please.
‘You’re the same age as me,’ the queen shot back. However, she seemed mollified by Walsingham’s apology; or perhaps she had been led to reflect that in fact there was no man in England who would work as hard and as conscientiously as Walsingham to protect her from the many people, mad and sane, who wanted to assassinate her. However, she was not yet ready to let Walsingham off the hook. ‘What are you going to do to make me more secure?’ she demanded.
‘You majesty, I am on the point of destroying a well-organized conspiracy against you by enemies of an order quite different from John Somerfield. These people will not wave their weapons in the air and boast about their intentions in taverns. They are in league with the Pope and the king of Spain, which I can assure you Somerfield is not. They are determined and well financed and obsessively secretive. Nevertheless, I expect to arrest their leader in the next few days.’
It was a spirited defence against the malice of Leicester, but all the same Ned was dismayed. This was premature. An arrest now would bring the conspiracy to an early halt, and in consequence they would not get evidence of Mary Stuart’s complicity. Personal rivalry had interfered again.
The queen said: ‘Who are these people?’
‘For fear that they may be forewarned, your majesty, I hesitate to name names’ – Walsingham looked pointedly at Leicester – ‘in public.’
Leicester was about to protest indignantly, but the queen said: ‘Quite right, I shouldn’t have asked. Very well, Sir Francis, you’d better leave us and get back to your work.’
‘Thank you, your majesty,’ said Walsingham.
*
ROLLOFITZGERALDwas anxious about Francis Throckmorton.
Throckmorton was not like the men who had been trained at the English College. They had made a life commitment to submit to the rule of the Church. They understood obedience and dedication. They had left England, spent years studying, taken vows, and returned home to do the job for which they had prepared. They knew their lives were at risk: every time one of them was caught by Walsingham and executed, the death was celebrated at the college as a martyrdom.
