“Since you know your history so well,” replied Lindsay, in a rage,” you should remember that that weak barrier did not hinder Graham, that Catherine Douglas’s arm was broken like a willow wand, and that James I was killed like a dog.”

“But you, my lord,” responded the courageous young girl, “ought also to know the ballad that is still sung in our time—­

“’Now, on Robert Gra’am, The king’s destroyer, shame!  To Robert Graham cling Shame, who destroyed our king.’”

“Mary,” cried the queen, who had overheard this altercation from her bedroom,—­“Mary, I command you to open the door directly:  do you hear?”

Mary obeyed, and Lord Lindsay entered, followed by Melville, who walked behind him, with slow steps and bent head.  Arrived in the middle of the second room, Lord Lindsay stopped, and, looking round him—­

“Well, where is she, then?” he asked; “and has she not already kept us waiting long enough outside, without making us wait again inside?  Or does she imagine that, despite these walls and these bars, she is always queen?”

“Patience, my lord,” murmured Sir Robert:  “you see that Lord Ruthven has not come yet, and since we can do nothing without him, let us wait.”

“Let wait who will,” replied Lindsay, inflamed with anger; “but it will not be I, and wherever she may be, I shall go and seek her.”

With these words, he made some steps towards Mary Stuart’s bedroom; but at the same moment the queen opened the door, without seeming moved either at the visit or at the insolence of the visitors, and so lovely and so full of majesty, that each, even Lindsay himself, was silent at her appearance, and, as if in obedience to a higher power, bowed respectfully before her.

“I fear I have kept you waiting, my lord,” said the queen, without replying to the ambassador’s salutation otherwise than by a slight inclination of the head; “but a woman does not like to receive even enemies without having spent a few minutes over her toilet.  It is true that men are less tenacious of ceremony,” added she, throwing a significant glance at Lord Lindsay’s rusty armour and soiled and pierced doublet.  “Good day, Melville,” she continued, without paying attention to some words of excuse stammered by Lindsay; “be welcome in my prison, as you were in my palace; for I believe you as devoted to the one as to the other”.

Then, turning to Lindsay, who was looking interrogatively at the door, impatient as he was for Ruthven to come—­

“You have there, my lord,” said she, pointing to the sword he carried over his shoulder, “a faithful companion, though it is a little heavy:  did you expect, in coming here, to find enemies against whom to employ it?  In the contrary case, it is a strange ornament for a lady’s presence.  But no matter, my lord, I, am too much of a Stuart to fear the sight of a sword, even if it were naked, I warn you.”

“It is not out of place here, madam,” replied Lindsay, bringing it forward and leaning his elbow on its cross hilt, “for it is an old acquaintance of your family.”