Adelaide is but mere painting-a semblance without substance -a glow without fire or flame; while yours is all fire, and yet shows no gleam which she regards. Now what if I thought it would help your cause, to show her to what aim his wishes were bent? Might it not have the effect to turn her eyes in some measure from him to you, by making the Queen's true sentiments visible?"

This was said in so artificial a manner, that Southennan was convinced of its insincerity, and felt as if there were something in the very nature of Rizzio to be distrusted; he made no answer farther than by remarking, in a jocular manner, at the same time looking impressively at the Italian,

You are too shrewd: such management as love seems to require at Court, would frighten simple country folks to fly from it. It is enough to make the snared bird struggle until it has snapped the springs."

Rizzio, however, had by this time fully recovered his selfpossession, and contrived, as they walked up the street together, plausibly almost to persuade Southennan that he had been animated, in the incitement of Chatelard, entirely by a wish to serve him.

"In truth, my friend," said he, "let us look at this affair reasonably, as we should do. The fellow has talked so much of his wonderful heart, and ardent passion for Adelaide, that no one believes a word he says about it; and you and I have not been unobservant spectators of who is the true loadstone of his affections; and, therefore, so that her Majesty be not offended, all stratagems are fair to get him out of your way."

By this time they had come near the entrance to the Unicorn, at the door of which Balwham was accidentally looking out. Rizzio, being bound to the house, walked at once in, and Southennan would have proceeded up the street, but Balwham came hastily to him, and said,

"A word wi' you, Southennan!" who accordingly turned, and went with him into his private room.

"Oh dear," cried Balwham, as soon as they were in and the door shut; "Isna' this a dreadfu' concern; a' the town's in a hobbleshaw; the Provost is louping about the Councilroom like a frightened water-wag-tail in a cage, and the Bailies and a' the Counsellors are sitting in a consternation, like puddocks on the lip o' a well."

Our hero's thoughts running on Knockwhinnie's pardon, attributed this alarming state of the magistracy to something unpopular which had resulted from it; whereas, the worthy

host was speaking of the amazement which the discovery of Auchenbrae's escape, and the substitution of Cornylees had occasioned. Under this inisconception, Southennan replied, "I hope the agitation will soon subside, and that the people will incline to the side of mercy."

"I would fain houp sae too; but I am just terrified out o' my seven senses, for they say that the instigators, and a' that were art and part in it, are to be brought to condign punishment."

"Oh! you don't say so. Is it already come to that?"

"Na, for any thing I ken to the contrary, Thomas Noose, the hangman, may hae gotten his commands; for Johnnie Gaff is dismissed. Puir creature! he was here telling me o' the interlocutor, and was in sic a panic that he would hae dwamed had I no gi'en him a tass o' Lode-vie."

"You astonish me."

"'Deed, I'm astonished mysel', for he counselled me to tak leg bail."

"You!" exclaimed Southennan," what had you to do with it ?"

"Me! I'm an honest man, Southennan, a lang-respected member o' the Vintners' Company: what I did was for the best, and scaith was as far frae my thoughts as frae the brain's that's unborn."

"But, in the name of all that is wonderful, how came you to be, in any way whatever, connected with Monsieur Chatelard?"

"Eh! preserve me, is he in the frying-pan too? What's his transgression, and how cam' he to be conjunc' wi' us ?" "With us with you," cried Southennan; what is that you say?"

"Hae ye no heard that the Tolbooth had been broken, and Auchenbrae aff and awa', leaving Cornylees, your ain friend, for a nest-egg to cleck mischief out o'? I thought the whole town kent this, and I was just keeking out at the door to see if there was a crowd coming to take me up, for flee the country I winna'. I hae a conscience void o' offence, baith to man and beast. And what would come o' the Unicorn and a' the gentlemen? It's fash enough, wi' a' my forethought, o get their dinner as it is!"

Southennan perceived that they had been at cross purposes, but without explaining the source of his own misconception, he inquired into the particulars of Balwham's story, and immediately after quickened his steps towards the Tolbooth.

CHAPTER LVIII.

"I am undone; there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away!"

SHAKSPEARE.

In the mean time the Count Dufroy had requested an audience of the Queen; which her Majesty, unconcious of having done any thing equivocal, was surprised at. It had been the custom of the Count, at all hours after she had come for the day into the presence-chamber, to obtain admission without the formality of asking leave. She was still more surprised when on his entrance she saw by his countenance that something had occurred to disturb him; and there was a thoughtful sadness in his eye which made her feel as if she had given occasion for some remonstrance or exhortation. In consequence, she stood waiting until he should address her. A reception so reserved and so unusual was attributed by him to the consciousness of error; and he spoke to her with an unwonted degree of solemnity:

"Madam, I have just been informed that your Majesty has been pleased to extend your royal mercy to Knockwhinnie." The Queen with a pensive smile replied that it was so.

"But," said she, "I cannot hope that your stern justice will applaud the deed!"

"It is not to the clemency by which your Majesty's benevolence has been gratified, that I would present to object; But I would be assured that it has not been granted in the manner I have been informed.'

The Queen smiled, and said, with her usual affability, " And what is the contingency if it has been so?"

The Count paused to meditate his answer, and then said, with profoundest respect, "I shall return to France."

The Queen looked in the utmost amazement, and then said, struggling with emotion,

"Can I have done any thing to cause me to forfeit such estimable service? Count Dufroy, I have here few friends; there may be around me honest men, but I know not yet which to trust; and therefore, I beseech-I would almost say command,

you-to stifle that intention, granting that I have erred. But in what consists my error?"

Dufroy paused again before he replied, and then said,

"In conceding to the young man Chatelard the pardon of Knockwhinnie, in opposition to higher and graver advice; and after your Majesty had deemed it expedient to refuse the application of the Abbot of Kilwinning."

A blush overspread the Queen's countenance. She discerned at once his whole mind, and saw the construction of which her compliance was susceptible; but she added firmly,

"How know you that the pardon was granted at the request of Chatelard ?"

"It is so stated: if it be not true, none of all your Majesty's faithfulest subjects will more rejoice than myself."

"Is there, then," exclaimed the Queen, in evident alarm, "so much importance fastened to my consenting that the pardon should go forth, merely because Chatelard was made the agent of my intention.”

"It is to be deplored that your Majesty had not consented to the solicitation of the Abbot of Kilwinning, or to any other of your Court, rather than to that presumptuous young man."

"Heavens!" cried the Queen, with increasing alarm, and resuming her seat, "What do your words portend? What is said of me, that you, from that true loyalty which I have ever experienced, should deem it needful to speak so plainly? Tell me, what is it that you think? As for the babbling gossip of the Court, I account it but as the east wind."

"And that is blighting," replied the Count; and advancing towards her, he knelt, and she extended to him her hand to kiss. "Pardon my boldness! In these times and in this country I fear your Majesty may not lightly consider the mildew of such detraction; there are many of high power and great influence in the kingdom, who look upon your Majesty's religion as an obstacle to the ascendency they covet in the state. I grieve, more than words can express, that Chatelard is so honoured by your Majesty."

The Queen started up, her eyes flashing with indignation, and after hastily moving across the room, said,

"My Lord-no, let me rather say my friend-speak with your wonted candour! I will not disguise that I am now well aware of all you think; but on what show of evidence or of conjecture dare any one suspect, that in this grace I was infected with any unbecoming motive ?"

It was impossible for the Count not to feel the sincerity of this impassioned address; and he immediately replied, with his old accustomed freedom, that of her Majesty nothing derogatory had ever been insinuated till this unfortunate occurrence; and he added more sedately, that the ill-placed attachment of Chatelard was evident to the whole Court.

"Has it, indeed, been so observed ?"

"Then," said the Count, dryly, "your Majesty knows it, and yet encouraged his presumption, by granting to him a request denied to others?"

"Encouraged! Can the Count Dufroy say so?" And she burst into a passion of tears, exclaiming, "Yes, I have done wrong; but it was not from any estimation of him: my spirit was worn out by the importunities I have endured: his application was but the atom that turned the scale. Do with him, Count, as you deem most accordant with my honour; let him be instantly sent forth the kingdom."

The Count stood for some time viewing her with compassion, as she walked across the room, abandoned to grief, and indulging her tears. In the midst of this agitation, she suddenly halted, and, turning towards him, said,

"I see, in doing that, we shall only give warranty to the venom of slanderous tongues; and yet what else can be done?"

Dufroy attempted to console her, by assuring her of his conviction, that as there had been no oblivion of her own dignity, the story might pass away, when Chatelard should be sent home to France.

"But," said the Queen, "how can he remain here without some change being shown to him in my demeanour. Will not that be observed? and how can I stoop to dissimulation with his audacity? No, Count, there is no other course; send him forth the kingdom!"

"I fear there is none other," added the Count. "I did think a middle course might have been steered; but your Majesty's condition forbids all expediency."

"Then let him be at once informed his service is dispensed with, and that he come no more to this house. I can make sacrifices of things dear to me when need requires; but this is none. I did not suspect that this measureless arrogance had been so noted by others!"

Adelaide entering at this moment, the Count retired, and the Queen, bending upon her shoulder, again wept bitterly.