The Abbot Page 26

  Chapter the Twenty-Fourth.

  'Tis a weary life this-- Vaults overhead, and grates and bars around me, And my sad hours spent with as sad companions, Whose thoughts are brooding: o'er their own mischances, Far, far too deeply to take part in mine. THE WOODSMAN.

  The course of life to which Mary and her little retinue were doomed,was in the last degree secluded and lonely, varied only as the weatherpermitted or rendered impossible the Queen's usual walk in the garden oron the battlements. The greater part of the morning she wrought with herladies at those pieces of needlework, many of which still remain proofsof her indefatigable application. At such hours the page was permittedthe freedom of the castle and islet; nay, he was sometimes invited toattend George Douglas when he went a-sporting upon the lake, or onits margin; opportunities of diversion which were only clouded by theremarkable melancholy which always seemed to brood on that gentleman'sbrow, and to mark his whole demeanour,--a sadness so profound, thatRoland never observed him to smile, or to speak any word unconnectedwith the immediate object of their exercise.

  The most pleasant part of Roland's day, was the occasional space whichhe was permitted to pass in personal attendance on the Queen and herladies, together with the regular dinner-time, which he always spentwith Dame Mary Fleming and Catharine Seyton. At these periods, he hadfrequent occasion to admire the lively spirit and inventive imaginationof the latter damsel, who was unwearied in her contrivances to amuseher mistress, and to banish, for a time at least, the melancholy whichpreyed on her bosom. She danced, she sung, she recited tales of ancientand modern times, with that heartfelt exertion of talent, of which thepleasure lies not in the vanity of displaying it to others, but in theenthusiastic consciousness that we possess it ourselves. And yet thesehigh accomplishments were mixed with an air of rusticity and harebrainedvivacity, which seemed rather to belong to some village maid, thecoquette of the ring around the Maypole, than to the high-breddescendant of an ancient baron. A touch of audacity, altogether shortof effrontery, and far less approaching to vulgarity, gave as it were awildness to all that she did; and Mary, while defending her from someof the occasional censures of her grave companion, compared her to atrained singing-bird escaped from a cage, which practises in all theluxuriance of freedom, and in full possession of the greenwood bough,the airs which it had learned during its earlier captivity.

  The moments which the page was permitted to pass in the presence of thisfascinating creature, danced so rapidly away, that, brief as they were,they compensated the weary dulness of all the rest of the day. Thespace of indulgence, however, was always brief, nor were any privateinterviews betwixt him and Catharine permitted, or even possible.Whether it were some special precaution respecting the Queen'shousehold, or whether it were her general ideas of propriety, DameFleming seemed particularly attentive to prevent the young peoplefrom holding any separate correspondence together, and bestowed, forCatharine's sole benefit in this matter, the full stock of prudence andexperience which she had acquired, when mother of the Queen's maidensof honour, and by which she had gained their hearty hatred. Casualmeetings, however, could not be prevented, unless Catherine had beenmore desirous of shunning, or Roland Graeme less anxious in watching forthem. A smile, a gibe, a sarcasm, disarmed of its severity by the archlook with which it was accompanied, was all that time permitted to passbetween them on such occasions. But such passing interviews neitherafforded means nor opportunity to renew the discussion of thecircumstances attending their earlier acquaintance, nor to permit Rolandto investigate more accurately the mysterious apparition of the page inthe purple velvet cloak at the hostelrie of Saint Michael's.

  The winter months slipped heavily away, and spring was already advanced,when Roland Graeme observed a gradual change in the manners of hisfellow-prisoners. Having no business of his own to attend to, and being,like those of his age, education, and degree, sufficiently curiousconcerning what passed around, he began by degrees to suspect, andfinally to be convinced, that there was something in agitation among hiscompanions in captivity, to which they did not desire that he should beprivy. Nay, he became almost certain that, by some means unintelligibleto him, Queen Mary held correspondence beyond the walls and waters whichsurrounded her prison-house, and that she nourished some secret hopeof deliverance or escape. In the conversations betwixt her and herattendants, at which he was necessarily present, the Queen could notalways avoid showing that she was acquainted with the events which werepassing abroad in the world, and which he only heard through her report.He observed that she wrote more and worked less than had been her formercustom, and that, as if desirous to lull suspicion asleep, she changedher manner towards the Lady Lochleven into one more gracious, and whichseemed to express a resigned submission to her lot. "They think I amblind," he said to himself, "and that I am unfit to be trusted becauseI am so young, or it may be because I was sent hither by the Regent.Well!--be it so--they may be glad to confide in me in the long run;and Catherine Seyton, for as saucy as she is, may find me as safe aconfidant as that sullen Douglas, whom she is always running after. Itmay be they are angry with me for listening to Master Elias Henderson;but it was their own fault for sending me there, and if the man speakstruth and good sense, and preaches only the word of God, he is as likelyto be right as either Pope or Councils."

  It is probable that in this last conjecture, Roland Graeme had hit uponthe real cause why the ladies had not intrusted him with their councils.He had of late had several conferences with Henderson on the subject ofreligion, and had given him to understand that he stood in need of hisinstructions, although he had not thought there was either prudence ornecessity for confessing that hitherto he had held the tenets of theChurch of Rome.

  Elias Henderson, a keen propagator of the reformed faith, had sought theseclusion of Lochleven Castle, with the express purpose and expectationof making converts from Rome amongst the domestics of the dethronedQueen, and confirming the faith of those who already held the Protestantdoctrines. Perhaps his hopes soared a little higher, and he mightnourish some expectation of a proselyte more distinguished in the personof the deposed Queen. But the pertinacity with which she and her femaleattendants refused to see or listen to him, rendered such hope, if henourished it, altogether abortive.

  The opportunity, therefore, of enlarging the religious information ofRoland Graeme, and bringing him to a more due sense of his duties toHeaven, was hailed by the good man as a door opened by Providencefor the salvation of a sinner. He dreamed not, indeed, that he wasconverting a Papist, but such was the ignorance which Roland displayedupon some material points of the reformed doctrine, that MasterHenderson, while praising his docility to the Lady Lochleven and hergrandson, seldom failed to add, that his venerable brother, HenryWarden, must be now decayed in strength and in mind, since he found acatechumen of his flock so ill-grounded in the principles of his belief.For this, indeed, Roland Graeme thought it was unnecessary to assign thetrue reason, which was his having made it a point of honour to forgetall that Henry Warden taught him, as soon as he was no longer compelledto read it over as a lesson acquired by rote. The lessons of his newinstructor, if not more impressively delivered, were received by a morewilling ear, and a more awakened understanding, and the solitude ofLochleven Castle was favourable to graver thoughts than the page hadhitherto entertained. He wavered yet, indeed, as one who was almostpersuaded; but his attention to the chaplain's instructions procured himfavour even with the stern old dame herself; and he was once or twice,but under great precaution, permitted to go to the neighbouringvillage of Kinross, situated on the mainland, to execute some ordinarycommission of his unfortunate mistress.

  For some time Roland Graeme might be considered as standing neuterbetwixt the two parties who inhabited the water-girdled Tower ofLochleven; but, as he rose in the opinion of the Lady of the Castle andher chaplain, he perceived, with great grief, that he lost ground inthat of Mary and her female allies.

  He came gradually to b
e sensible that he was regarded as a spy upontheir discourse, and that, instead of the ease with which they hadformerly conversed in his presence, without suppressing any of thenatural feelings of anger, of sorrow, or mirth, which the chance topicof the moment happened to call forth, their talk was now guardedlyrestricted to the most indifferent subjects, and a studied reserveobserved even in their mode of treating these. This obvious want ofconfidence was accompanied with a correspondent change in their personaldemeanor towards the unfortunate page. The Queen, who had at firsttreated him with marked courtesy, now scarce spoke to him, saveto convey some necessary command for her service. The Lady Flemingrestricted her notice to the most dry and distant expressions ofcivility, and Catherine Seyton became bitter in her pleasantries, andshy, cross, and pettish, in any intercourse they had together. What wasyet more provoking, he saw, or thought he saw, marks of intelligencebetwixt George Douglas and the beautiful Catherine Seyton; and,sharpened by jealousy, he wrought himself almost into a certainty, thatthe looks which they exchanged, conveyed matters of deep and seriousimport. "No wonder," he thought, "if, courted by the son of a proudand powerful baron, she can no longer spare a word or look to the poorfortuneless page."

  In a word, Roland Graeme's situation became truly disagreeable, and hisheart naturally enough rebelled against the injustice of this treatment,which deprived him of the only comfort which he had received forsubmitting to a confinement in other respects irksome. He accused QueenMary and Catherine Seyton (for concerning the opinion of Dame Fleminghe was indifferent) of inconsistency in being displeased with him onaccount of the natural consequences of an order of their own. Why didthey send him to hear this overpowering preacher? The Abbot Ambrosius,he recollected, understood the weakness of their Popish cause better,when he enjoined him to repeat within his own mind, _aves_, and_credos_, and _paters_, all the while old Henry Warden preached orlectured, that so he might secure himself against lending even amomentary ear to his heretical doctrine. "But I will endure this life nolonger," said he to himself, manfully; "do they suppose I would betraymy mistress, because I see cause to doubt of her religion?--that wouldbe a serving, as they say, the devil for God's sake. I will forth intothe world--he that serves fair ladies, may at least expect kind looksand kind words; and I bear not the mind of a gentleman, to submit tocold treatment and suspicion, and a life-long captivity besides. I willspeak to George Douglas to-morrow when we go out a-fishing."

  A sleepless night was spent in agitating this magnanimous resolution,and he arose in the morning not perfectly decided in his own mindwhether he should abide by it or not. It happened that he was summonedby the Queen at an unusual hour, and just as he was about to go out withGeorge Douglas. He went to attend her commands in, the garden; but as hehad his angling-rod in his hand, the circumstance announced his previousintention, and the Queen, turning to the Lady Fleming, said, "Catherinemust devise some other amusement for us, _ma bonnie amie_; our discreetpage has already made his party for the day's pleasure."

  "I said from the beginning," answered the Lady Fleming, "that your Graceought not to rely on being favoured with the company of a youth who hasso many Huguenot acquaintances, and has the means of amusing himself farmore agreeably than with us."

  "I wish," said Catherine, her animated features reddening withmortification, "that his friends would sail away with him for good, andbring us in return a page (if such a thing can be found) faithful to hisQueen and to his religion."

  "One part of your wishes may be granted, madam," said Roland Graeme,unable any longer to restrain his sense of the treatment which hereceived on all sides; and he was about to add, "I heartily wish you acompanion in my room, if such can be found, who is capable of enduringwomen's caprices without going distracted." Luckily, he recollected theremorse which he had felt at having given way to the vivacity of histemper upon a similar occasion; and, closing his lips, imprisoned,until it died on his tongue, a reproach so misbecoming the presence ofmajesty.

  "Why do you remain there," said the Queen, "as if you were rooted to theparterre?"

  "I but attend your Grace's commands," said the page.

  "I have none to give you--Begone, sir."

  As he left the garden to go to the boat, he distinctly heard Maryupbraid one of her attendants in these words:--"You see to what you haveexposed us!"

  This brief scene at once determined Roland Graeme's resolution to quitthe castle, if it were possible, and to impart his resolution to GeorgeDouglas without loss of time. That gentleman, in his usual mood ofsilence, sate in the stern of the little skiff which they used onsuch occasions, trimming his fishing-tackle, and, from time to time,indicating by signs to Graeme, who pulled the oars, which way he shouldrow. When they were a furlong or two from the castle, Roland restedon the oars, and addressed his companion somewhat abruptly,--"I havesomething of importance to say to you, under your pleasure, fair sir."

  The pensive melancholy of Douglas's countenance at once gave way to theeager, keen, and startled look of one who expects to hear something ofdeep and alarming import.

  "I am wearied to the very death of this Castle of Lochleven," continuedRoland.

  "Is that all?" said Douglas; "I know none of its inhabitants who aremuch better pleased with it."

  "Ay, but I am neither a native of the house, nor a prisoner in it, andso I may reasonably desire to leave it."

  "You might desire to quit it with equal reason," answered Douglas, "ifyou were both the one and the other."

  "But," said Roland Graeme, "I am not only tired of living in LochlevenCastle, but I am determined to quit it."

  "That is a resolution more easily taken than executed," replied Douglas.

  "Not if yourself, sir, and your Lady Mother, choose to consent,"answered the page.

  "You mistake the matter, Roland," said Douglas; "you will find that theconsent of two other persons is equally essential--that of the Lady Maryyour mistress, and that of my uncle the Regent, who placed you abouther person, and who will not think it proper that she should change herattendants so soon."

  "And must I then remain whether I will or no?" demanded the page,somewhat appalled at a view of the subject, which would have occurredsooner to a person of more experience.

  "At least," said George Douglas, "you must will to remain till my uncleconsents to dismiss you."

  "Frankly," said the page, "and speaking to you as a gentleman who isincapable of betraying me, I will confess, that if I thought myself aprisoner here, neither walls nor water should confine me long."

  "Frankly," said Douglas, "I could not much blame you for the attempt;yet, for all that, my father, or uncle, or the earl, or any of mybrothers, or in short any of the king's lords into whose hands you fell,would in such a case hang you like a dog, or like a sentinel who desertshis post; and I promise you that you will hardly escape them. But rowtowards Saint Serf's island--there is a breeze from the west, and weshall have sport, keeping to windward of the isle, where the ripple isstrongest. We will speak more of what you have mentioned when we havehad an hour's sport."

  Their fishing was successful, though never did two anglers pursue eventhat silent and unsocial pleasure with less of verbal intercourse.

  When their time was expired, Douglas took the oars in his turn, and byhis order Roland Graeme steered the boat, directing her course upon thelanding-place at the castle. But he also stopped in the midst of hiscourse, and, looking around him, said to Graeme, "There is a thing whichI could mention to thee; but it is so deep a secret, that even here,surrounded as we are by sea and sky, without the possibility of alistener, I cannot prevail on myself to speak it out."

  "Better leave it unspoken, sir," answered Roland Graeme, "if you doubtthe honour of him who alone can hear it."

  "I doubt not your honour," replied George Douglas; "but you are young,imprudent, and changeful."

  "Young," said Roland, "I am, and it may be imprudent--but who hathinformed you that I am changeful?"

  "One that knows you, perhaps, better than you
know yourself," repliedDouglas.

  "I suppose you mean Catherine Seyton," said the page, his heart risingas he spoke; "but she is herself fifty times more variable in her humourthan the very water which we are floating upon."

  "My young acquaintance," said Douglas, "I pray you to remember thatCatherine Seyton is a lady of blood and birth, and must not be lightlyspoken of."

  "Master George of Douglas," said Graeme, "as that speech seemed tobe made under the warrant of something like a threat, I pray you toobserve, that I value not the threat at the estimation of a fin of oneof these dead trouts; and, moreover, I would have you to know that thechampion who undertakes the defence of every lady of blood and birth,whom men accuse of change of faith and of fashion, is like to haveenough of work on his hands."

  "Go to," said the Seneschal, but in a tone of good-humour, "thou art afoolish boy, unfit to deal with any matter more serious than the castingof a net, or the flying of a hawk."

  "If your secret concern Catherine Seyton," said the page, "I care notfor it, and so you may tell her if you will. I wot she can shape youopportunity to speak with her, as she has ere now."

  The flush which passed over Douglas's face, made the page aware that hehad alighted on a truth, when he was, in fact, speaking at random; andthe feeling that he had done so, was like striking a dagger into hisown heart. His companion, without farther answer, resumed the oars,and pulled lustily till they arrived at the island and the castle.The servants received the produce of their spoil, and the two fishers,turning from each other in silence, went each to his several apartment.

  Roland Graeme had spent about an hour in grumbling against CatherineSeyton, the Queen, the Regent, and the whole house of Lochleven, withGeorge Douglas at the head of it, when the time approached that his dutycalled him to attend the meal of Queen Mary. As he arranged his dressfor this purpose, he grudged the trouble, which, on similar occasions,he used, with boyish foppery, to consider as one of the most importantduties of his day; and when he went to take his place behind the chairof the Queen, it was with an air of offended dignity, which could notescape her observation, and probably appeared to her ridiculous enough,for she whispered something in French to her ladies, at which thelady Fleming laughed, and Catherine appeared half diverted and halfdisconcerted. This pleasantry, of which the subject was concealed fromhim, the unfortunate page received, of course, as a new offence, andcalled an additional degree of sullen dignity into his mien, which mighthave exposed him to farther raillery, but that Mary appeared disposed tomake allowance for and compassionate his feelings.

  With the peculiar tact and delicacy which no woman possessed in greaterperfection, she began to soothe by degrees the vexed spirit of hermagnanimous attendant. The excellence of the fish which he had taken inhis expedition, the high flavour and beautiful red colour of the trouts,which have long given distinction to the lake, led her first to expressher thanks to her attendant for so agreeable an addition to her table,especially upon a _jour de jeune_; and then brought on inquiriesinto the place where the fish had been taken, their size, theirpeculiarities, the times when they were in season, and a comparisonbetween the Lochleven trouts and those which are found in the lakes andrivers of the south of Scotland. The ill humour of Roland Graeme wasnever of an obstinate character. It rolled away like mist before thesun, and he was easily engaged in a keen and animated dissertation aboutLochleven trout, and sea trout, and river trout, and bull trout, andchar, which never rise to a fly, and par, which some suppose infantsalmon, and _herlings_, which frequent the Nith, and _vendisses_, whichare only found in the Castle-Loch of Lochmaben; and he was hurrying onwith the eager impetuosity and enthusiasm of a young sportsman, when heobserved that the smile with which the Queen at first listened to himdied languidly away, and that, in spite of her efforts to suppress them,tears rose to her eyes. He stopped suddenly short, and, distressedin his turn, asked, "If he had the misfortune unwittingly to givedispleasure to her Grace?"

  "No, my poor boy," replied the Queen; "but as you numbered up the lakesand rivers of my kingdom, imagination cheated me, as it will do, andsnatched me from these dreary walls away to the romantic streams ofNithsdale, and the royal towers of Lochmaben.--O land, which my fathershave so long ruled! of the pleasures which you extend so freely, yourQueen is now deprived, and the poorest beggar, who may wander free fromone landward town to another, would scorn to change fates with Mary ofScotland!"

  "Your highness," said the Lady Fleming, "will do well to withdraw."

  "Come with me, then, Fleming," said the Queen, "I would not burdenhearts so young as these are, with the sight of my sorrows."

  She accompanied these words with a look of melancholy compassion towardsRoland and Catherine, who were now left alone together in the apartment.

  The page found his situation not a little embarrassing; for, as everyreader has experienced who may have chanced to be in such a situation,it is extremely difficult to maintain the full dignity of an offendedperson in the presence of a beautiful girl, whatever reason we may havefor being angry with her. Catherine Seyton, on her part, sate stilllike a lingering ghost, which, conscious of the awe which its presenceimposes, is charitably disposed to give the poor confused mortal whomit visits, time to recover his senses, and comply with the grand rule ofdemonology by speaking first. But as Roland seemed in no hurry to availhimself of her condescension, she carried it a step farther, and herselfopened the conversation.

  "I pray you, fair sir, if it may be permitted me to disturb your augustreverie by a question so simple,--what may have become of your rosary?"

  "It is lost, madam--lost some time since," said Roland, partlyembarrassed and partly indignant.

  "And may I ask farther, sir," said Catherine, "why you have not replacedit with another?--I have half a mind," she said, taking from her pocketa string of ebony beads adorned with gold, "to bestow one upon you, tokeep for my sake, just to remind you of former acquaintance."

  There was a little tremulous accent in the tone with which these wordswere delivered, which at once put to flight Roland Graeme's resentment,and brought him to Catherine's side; but she instantly resumed the boldand firm accent which was more familiar to her. "I did not bid you," shesaid, "come and sit so close by me; for the acquaintance that I spokeof, has been stiff and cold, dead and buried, for this many a day."

  "Now Heaven forbid!" said the page, "it has only slept, and now that youdesire it should awake, fair Catherine, believe me that a pledge of yourreturning favour--"

  "Nay, nay," said Catherine, withholding the rosary, towards which, ashe spoke, he extended his hand, "I have changed my mind on betterreflection. What should a heretic do with these holy beads, that havebeen blessed by the father of the church himself?"

  Roland winced grievously, for he saw plainly which way the discourse wasnow likely to tend, and felt that it must at all events be embarrassing."Nay, but," he said, "it was as a token of your own regard that youoffered them."

  "Ay, fair sir, but that regard attended the faithful subject, the loyaland pious Catholic, the individual who was so solemnly devoted atthe same time with myself to the same grand duty; which, you must nowunderstand, was to serve the church and Queen. To such a person, if youever heard of him, was my regard due, and not to him who associates withheretics, and is about to become a renegado."

  "I should scarce believe, fair mistress," said Roland, indignantly,"that the vane of your favour turned only to a Catholic wind,considering that it points so plainly to George Douglas, who, I think,is both kingsman and Protestant."

  "Think better of George Douglas," said Catherine, "than to believe--"and then checking herself, as if she had spoken too much, she went on,"I assure you, fair Master Roland, that all who wish you well are sorryfor you."

  "Their number is very few, I believe," answered Roland, "and theirsorrow, if they feel any, not deeper than ten minutes' time will cure."

  "They are more numerous, and think more deeply concerning you, thanyou seem to be aware," answered Cather
ine. "But perhaps they thinkwrong--You are the best judge in your own affairs; and if you prefergold and church-lands to honour and loyalty, and the faith of yourfathers, why should you be hampered in conscience more than others?"

  "May Heaven bear witness for me," said Roland, "that if I entertainany difference of opinion--that is, if I nourish any doubts in point ofreligion, they have been adopted on the conviction of my own mind, andthe suggestion of my own conscience!"

  "Ay, ay, your conscience--your conscience!" repeated she with satiricemphasis; "your conscience is the scape-goat; I warrant it an ableone--it will bear the burden of one of the best manors of the Abbey ofSaint Mary of Kennaquhair, lately forfeited to our noble Lord the King,by the Abbot and community thereof, for the high crime of fidelityto their religious vows, and now to be granted by the High and MightyTraitor, and so forth, James Earl of Murray, to the good squire of damesRoland Graeme, for his loyal and faithful service as under-espial, anddeputy-turnkey, for securing the person of his lawful sovereign, QueenMary."

  "You misconstrue me cruelly," said the page; "yes, Catherine, mostcruelly--God knows I would protect this poor lady at the risk of mylife, or with my life; but what can I do--what can any one do for her?"

  "Much may be done--enough may be done--all may be done--if men will bebut true and honourable, as Scottish men were in the days of Bruce andWallace. Oh, Roland, from what an enterprise you are now withdrawingyour heart and hand, through mere fickleness and coldness of spirit!"

  "How can I withdraw," said Roland, "from an enterprise which has neverbeen communicated to me?--Has the Queen, or have you, or has anyone, communicated with me upon any thing for her service which I haverefused? Or have you not, all of you, held me at such distance fromyour counsels, as if I were the most faithless spy since the daysof Ganelon?" [Footnote: Gan, Gano, or Ganelon of Mayence, is inthe Romances on the subject of Charlemagne and his Paladins, alwaysrepresented as the traitor by whom the Christian champions arebetrayed.]

  "And who," said Catherine Seyton, "would trust the sworn friend, andpupil, and companion, of the heretic preacher Henderson? ay--a propertutor you have chosen, instead of the excellent Ambrosius, who is nowturned out of house and homestead, if indeed he is not languishing ina dungeon, for withstanding the tyranny of Morton, to whose brother thetemporalities of that noble house of God have been gifted away by theRegent."

  "Is it possible?" said the page; "and is the excellent Father Ambrose insuch distress?"

  "He would account the news of your falling away from the faith of yourfathers," answered Catherine, "a worse mishap than aught that tyrannycan inflict on himself."

  "But why," said Roland, very much moved, "why should you supposethat--that--that it is with me as you say?"

  "Do you yourself deny it?" replied Catherine; "do you not admit that youhave drunk the poison which you should have dashed from your lips?--Doyou deny that it now ferments in your veins, if it has not altogethercorrupted the springs of life?--Do you deny that you have your doubts,as you proudly term them, respecting what popes and councils havedeclared it unlawful to doubt of?--Is not your faith wavering, if notoverthrown?--Does not the heretic preacher boast his conquest?--Doesnot the heretic woman of this prison-house hold up thy example toothers?--Do not the Queen and the Lady Fleming believe in thy fallingaway?--And is there any except one--yes, I will speak it out, and thinkas lightly as you please of my good-will--is there one except myselfthat holds even a lingering hope that you may yet prove what we once allbelieved of you?"

  "I know not," said our poor page, much embarrassed by the view which wasthus presented to him of the conduct he was expected to pursue, and bya person in whom he was not the less interested that, though long aresident in Lochleven Castle, with no object so likely to attract hisundivided attention, no lengthened interview had taken place since theyhad first met,--"I know not what you expect of me, or fear from me. Iwas sent hither to attend Queen Mary, and to her I acknowledge the dutyof a servant through life and death. If any one had expected serviceof another kind, I was not the party to render it. I neither avownor disclaim the doctrines of the reformed church.--Will you have thetruth?--It seems to me that the profligacy of the Catholic clergy hasbrought this judgment on their own heads, and, for aught I know, it maybe for their reformation. But, for betraying this unhappy Queen, Godknows I am guiltless of the thought. Did I even believe worse of her,than as her servant I wish--as her subject I dare to do--I would notbetray her--far from it--I would aid her in aught which could tend to afair trial of her cause."

  "Enough! enough!" answered Catherine, clasping her hands together; "thenthou wilt not desert us if any means are presented, by which, placingour Royal Mistress at freedom, this case may be honestly tried betwixther and her rebellious subjects?"

  "Nay--but, fair Catherine," replied the page, "hear but what the Lord ofMurray said when he sent me hither."--

  "Hear but what the devil said," replied the maiden, "rather than whata false subject, a false brother, a false counsellor, a false friend,said! A man raised from a petty pensioner on the crown's bounty, to bethe counsellor of majesty, and the prime distributor of the bounties ofthe state;--one with whom rank, fortune, title, consequence, and power,all grew up like a mushroom, by the mere warm good-will of the sister,whom, in requital, he hath mewed up in this place of melancholyseclusion--whom, in farther requital, he has deposed, and whom, if hedared, he would murder!"

  "I think not so ill of the Earl of Murray," said Roland Graeme; "andsooth to speak," he added, with a smile, "it would require some bribe tomake me embrace, with firm and desperate resolution, either one side orthe other."

  "Nay, if that is all," replied Catherine Seyton, in a tone ofenthusiasm, "you shall be guerdoned with prayers from oppressedsubjects--from dispossessed clergy--from insulted nobles--with immortalpraise by future ages--with eager gratitude by the present--with fameon earth, and with felicity in heaven! Your country will thank you--yourQueen will be debtor to you--you will achieve at once the highest fromthe lowest degree in chivalry--all men will honour, all women willlove you--and I, sworn with you so early to the accomplishment of QueenMary's freedom, will--yes, I will--love you better than--ever sisterloved brother!" "Say on--say on!" whispered Roland, kneeling onone knee, and taking her hand, which, in the warmth of exhortation,Catherine held towards him.

  "Nay," said she, pausing, "I have already said too much--far too much,if I prevail not with you--far too little if I do. But I prevail,"she continued, seeing that the countenance of the youth she addressedreturned the enthusiasm of her own--"I prevail; or rather the good causeprevails through its own strength--thus I devote thee to it." And asshe spoke she approached her finger to the brow of the astonished youth,and, without touching it, signed the cross over his forehead--stoopedher face towards him, and seemed to kiss the empty space in which shehad traced the symbol; then starting up, and extricating herself fromhis grasp, darted into the Queen's apartment.

  Roland Graeme remained as the enthusiastic maiden had left him, kneelingon one knee, with breath withheld, and with eyes fixed upon the spacewhich the fairy form of Catherine Seyton had so lately occupied. Ifhis thoughts were not of unmixed delight, they at least partook of thatthrilling and intoxicating, though mingled sense of pain and pleasure,the most over-powering which life offers in its blended cup. He rose andretired slowly; and although the chaplain Mr. Henderson preached on thatevening his best sermon against the errors of Popery, I would not engagethat he was followed accurately through the train of his reasoningby the young proselyte, with a view to whose especial benefit he hadhandled the subject.