The Abbot

'And I,' said the Lady Lochleven, 'although her temper hath been more gentle of late, have no will to undergo, without necessity, the rancour of her wit.'

'Under your permission, madam,' said the chaplain, 'I will myself render your request to the Queen. During my long residence in this house she hath not deigned to see me in private, or to hear my doctrine; yet so may Heaven prosper my labours, as love for her soul, and desire to bring her into the right path, was my chief desire for coming hither.'

'Take care, Master Henderson,' said Douglas, in a tone which seemed almost sarcastic, 'lest you rush hastily on an adventure to which you have no vocation?you are learned, and know the adage, Ne accesseris in consilium nisi vocatus.?Who hath required this at your hand?'

'The Master to whose service I am called,' answered the preacher, looking upward,?'He who hath commanded me to be earnest in season and out of season.'

'Your acquaintance hath not been much, I think, with courts or princes,' continued the young Esquire.

'No, sir,' replied Henderson, 'but like my Master Knox, I see nothing frightful in the fair face of a pretty lady.'

'My son,' said the Lady of Lochleven, 'quench not the good man's zeal ?let him do the errand to this unhappy Princess.'

'With more willingness than I would do it myself,' said George Douglas. Yet something in his manner appeared to contradict his words.

The minister went accordingly, followed by Roland Graeme, and, demanding an audience of the imprisoned Princess, was admitted. He found her with her ladies engaged in the daily task of embroidery. The Queen received him with that courtesy, which, in ordinary cases, she used towards all who approached her, and the clergyman, in opening his commission, was obviously somewhat more embarrassed than he had expected to be.?'The good Lady of Lochleven?may it please your Grace?'

He made a short pause, during which Mary said, with a smile, 'My Grace would, in truth, be well pleased, were the Lady Lochleven our good lady?But go on?what is the will of the good Lady of Lochleven?'

'She desires, madam,' said the chaplain, 'that your Grace will permit this young gentleman, your page, Roland Graeme, to pass to Kinross, to look after some household stuff and hangings, sent hither for the better furnishing your Grace's apartments.'

'The Lady of Lochleven,' said the Queen, 'uses needless ceremony, in requesting our permission for that which stands within her own pleasure. We well know that this young gentleman's attendance on us had not been so long permitted, were he not thought to be more at the command of that good lady than at ours.?But we cheerfully yield consent that he shall go on her errand?with our will we would doom no living creature to the captivity which we ourselves must suffer.'

'Ay, madam,' answered the preacher, 'and it is doubtless natural for humanity to quarrel with its prison- house. Yet there have been those, who have found, that time spent in the house of temporal captivity may be so employed as to redeem us from spiritual slavery.'

'I apprehend your meaning, sir,' replied the Queen, 'but I have heard your apostle?I have heard Master John Knox; and were I to be perverted, I would willingly resign to the ablest and most powerful of heresiarchs, the poor honour he might acquire by overcoming my faith and my hope.'

'Madam,' said the preacher, 'it is not to the talents or skill of the husbandman that God gives the increase?the words which were offered in vain by him whom you justly call our apostle, during the bustle and gaiety of a court, may yet find better acceptance during the leisure for reflection which this place affords. God knows, lady, that I speak in singleness of heart, as one who would as soon compare himself to the immortal angels, as to the holy man whom you have named. Yet would you but condescend to apply to their noblest use, those talents and that learning which all allow you to be possessed of?would you afford us but the slightest hope that you would hear and regard what can be urged against the blinded superstition and idolatry in which you are brought up, sure am I, that the most powerfully-gifted of my brethren, that even John Knox himself, would hasten hither, and account the rescue of your single soul from the nets of Romish error?'

'I am obliged to you and to them for their charity,' said Mary; 'but as I have at present but one presence- chamber, I would reluctantly see it converted into a Huguenot synod.'

'At least, madam, be not thus obstinately blinded in your errors! Hear one who has hungered and thirsted, watched and prayed, to undertake the good work of your conversion, and who would be content to die the instant that a work so advantageous for yourself and so beneficial to Scotland were accomplished?Yes, lady, could I but shake the remaining pillar of the heathen temple in this land?and that permit me to term your faith in the delusions of Rome?I could be content to die overwhelmed in the ruins!'

'I will not insult your zeal, sir,' replied Mary, 'by saying you are more likely to make sport for the Philistines than to overwhelm them?your charity claims my thanks, for it is warmly expressed and may be truly purposed?But believe as well of me as I am willing to do of you, and think that I may be as anxious to recall you to the ancient and only road, as you are to teach me your new by-ways to paradise.'

'Then, madam, if such be your generous purpose,' said Henderson, eagerly, '?what hinders that we should dedicate some part of that time, unhappily now too much at your Grace's disposal, to discuss a question so weighty? You, by report of all men, are both learned and witty; and I, though without such advantages, am strong in my cause as in a tower of defence. Why should we not spend some space in endeavouring to discover which of us hath the wrong side in this important matter?'

'Nay,' said Queen Mary, 'I never alleged my force was strong enough to accept of a combat en champ clos, with a scholar and a polemic. Besides, the match is not equal. You, sir, might retire when you felt the battle go against you, while I am tied to the stake, and have no permission to say the debate wearies me.?I would be alone.'

She curtsied low to him as she uttered these words; and Henderson, whose zeal was indeed ardent, but did not extend to the neglect of delicacy, bowed in return, and prepared to withdraw.

'I would,' he said, 'that my earnest wish, my most zealous prayer, could procure to your Grace any blessing or comfort, but especially that in which alone blessing or comfort is, as easily as the slightest intimation of your wish will remove me from your presence.'

He was in the act of departing, when Mary said to him with much courtesy, 'Do me no injury in your thoughts, good sir; it may be, that if my time here be protracted longer?as surely I hope it will not, trusting that either my rebel subjects will repent of their disloyalty, or that my faithful lieges will obtain the upper hand?but if