Fleming, shall finish reading to us yonder little treatise Des Rhodomontades Espagnoles." " « Tarry, madam," said Lindesay, his complexion reddening in his turn; « I know your quick wit too well of old to have sought an interview that you might sharpen its edge at the expence of my honour. Lord Ruthven and myself, with Sir Robert Melville as a concurrent, come to your Grace on the part of the Secret Council, to tender to you what much concerns the safety of your own life and the welfare of the State." << The Secret Council?» said the Queen; « by what powers can it subsist or act, while I, from whom it holds its character, am here detained under unjust restraint? But it matters notwhat concerns the welfare of Scotland shall be acceptable to Mary Stuart, come from whatsoever quarter it will-and for what concerns her own life, she has lived long enough to be weary of it, even at the age of twenty-five.-Where is your colleague, my lord—why tarries he?» « He comes, madam," said Melville, and Lord Ruthven entered at the instant, holding in his hand a packet. As the Queen returned his salutation she became deadly pale, but instantly recovered herself by dint of strong and sudden resolution, just as the noble, whose appearance seemed to excite such emotions in her bosom, entered the apartment in company with George Douglas, the youngest son of the Knight of Lochleven, who, during the absence of his father and brethren, acted as Seneschal of the Castle, under the direction of the elder Lady Lochleven, his father's mother. CHAPTER VII. I give this heavy weight from off my head, Richard II. LORD Ruthven had the look and bearing which became a soldier and statesman, and the martial cast of his form and features, procured him the popular epithet of Greysteil, by which he was distinguished by his intimates, after the hero of a metrical romance then generally known. His dress, which was a buff-coat embroidered, had a half-military character, but exhibited nothing of the sordid negligence which distinguished that of Lindesay. But the son of an ill-fated sire, and the father of a yet more unfortunate family, bore in his look that cast of inauspicious melancholy, by which the physiognomists of that time pretended to distinguish those who were predestined to a violent and unhappy death. The terror which the presence of this noble man impressed on the Queen's mind, arose from the active share he had borne in the slaughter of David Rizzio; his father having presided at the perpetration of that abominable crime, although so weak from long and wasting illness, that he could not endure the weight of his armour, having arisen from a sick-bed to commit a mur. ther in the presence of his Sovereign. On that occasion, his son also had attended and taken an active part. It was little to be wondered at that the Queen, considering her condition when such a deed of horror was acted in her presence, should retain an instinctive terror for the principal actors in the murther. She returned, however, with grace the salutation of Lord Ruthven, and extended her hand to George Douglas, who kneeled and kissed it with respect; the first mark of a subject's homage which Roland Græme had seen any of them render to the captive Sovereign. She returned his greeting in silence, and there was a brief pause, during which the steward of the castle, a man of a sad brow and a severe eye, placed, under George Douglas's directions, a table and writing materials; and the page, obedient to his mistress's dumb signal, advanced a large chair to the side on which the Queen stood, the table thus forming a sort of bar which divided the Queen and her personal followers from her unwelcome visitors. The steward then withdrew after a low reverence. When he had closed the door behind him, the Queen broke silence- « With your favour, my -- lords, I will sit my walks are not indeed extensive enough at present to fatigue me greatly, yet I find repose something more necessary than usual.» She sate down accordingly, and shading her cheek with her beautiful hand, looked keenly and impressively at each of the nobles in turn, Mary Fleming applied her kerchief to her eyes, and Catherine Seyton and Roland Græme exchanged a glance, which showed that both were too deeply engrossed with sentiments of interest and commiseration for their royal mistress, to think of any thing which regarded themselves. «< I wait your business, my lords,» said the Queen, after she had been seated for about a minute without a word being spoken,--« I wait your message from those you call the Secret Council. I trust it is a petition of pardon, and a desire that I will resume my rightful throne, without using with due severity my right of punishing those who have dispossessed me of it. » Madam,» replied Ruthyen, «it is painful for us to speak, harsh truths to a Princess who has long ruled us. But we come to offer, not to implore pardon. In a word, madam, we have to propose to you on the part of the Secret Council, that you sign these deeds, which will contribute greatly to the pacification of the state, the advancement of God's word, and the welfare of your own future life.» « Am I expected to take these fair words on .1. |