Cecil and Sir William St. Loe then went toward the gate, and Sir George said to me:—­

“I must go with them.  You remain with Doll, and see that she is taken home.  Procure a horse for her.  If she is unable to ride, make a litter, or perhaps there is a coach in the castle; if so, take possession of it.  Take her home by some means when we return.  What, think you, could have brought her here?”

I evaded the question by replying, “I will probably be able to get a coach in the castle, Sir George.  Leave Dorothy with me.”

Soon, by the command of Sir William, the yeomen rode to the right and to the left for the purpose of surrounding the castle, and then I heard Cecil at the gates demanding:—­

“Open in the name of the queen.”

“Let us go to the gates,” said Dorothy, “that we may hear what they say and see what they do.  Will they kill him here, think you?” she asked, looking wildly into my face.

The flambeaux on the castle gate and those which the link-boys had brought with them from Haddon were lighted, and the scene in front of the gate was all aglow.

“No, no, my sweet one,” I answered, “perhaps they will not kill him at all.  Certainly they will not kill him now.  They must try him first.”

I tried to dissuade her from going to the gates, but she insisted, and I helped her to walk forward.

When Dorothy and I reached the gates, we found that Cecil and Lord Rutland were holding a consultation through the parley-window.  The portcullis was still down, and the gates were closed; but soon the portcullis was raised, a postern was opened from within, and Sir William entered the castle with two score of the yeomen guards.

Sir George approached and again plied Dorothy with questions, but she would not speak.  One would have thought from her attitude that she was deaf and dumb.  She seemed unconscious of her father’s presence.

“She has lost her mind,” said Sir George, in tones of deep trouble, “and I know not what to do.”

“Leave her with me for a time, cousin.  I am sure she will be better if we do not question her now.”

Then Dorothy seemed to awaken.  “Malcolm is right, father.  Leave me for a time, I pray you.”

Sir George left us, and waited with a party of yeomen a short distance from the gate for the return of Sir William with his prisoners.

Dorothy and I sat upon a stone bench, near the postern through which Sir William and the guardsmen had entered, but neither of us spoke.

After a long, weary time of waiting Sir William came out of the castle through the postern, and with him came Mary Stuart.  My heart jumped when I saw her in the glare of the flambeaux, and the spirit of my dead love for her came begging admission to my heart.  I cannot describe my sensations when I beheld her, but this I knew, that my love for her was dead past resurrection.

Following Mary came Lord Rutland, and immediately following his Lordship walked John.  When he stepped through the postern, Dorothy sprang to her feet and ran to him with a cry, “John, John!”