The Abbot

The enterprise of Roland Graeme appeared to prosper. A trinket or two, of which the work did not surpass the substance, (for the materials were silver, supplied by the Queen,) were judiciously presented to those most likely to be inquisitive into the labours of the forge and anvil, which they thus were induced to reckon profitable to others and harmless in itself. Openly, the page was seen working about such trifles. In private, he forged a number of keys resembling so nearly in weight and in form those which were presented every evening to the Lady Lochleven, that, on a slight inspection, it would have been difficult to perceive the difference. He brought them to the dark rusty colour by the use of salt and water; and, in the triumph of his art, presented them at length to Queen Mary in her presence-chamber, about an hour before the tolling of the curfew. She looked at them with pleasure, but at the same time with doubt.--"I allow," she said, "that the Lady Lochleven's eyes, which are not of the clearest, may be well deceived, could we pass those keys on her in place of the real implements of her tyranny. But how is this to be done, and which of my little court dare attempt this tour de jongleur with any chance of success? Could we but engage her in some earnest matter of argument--but those which I hold with her, always have been of a kind which make her grasp her keys the faster, as if she said to herself--Here I hold what sets me above your taunts and reproaches--And even for her liberty, Mary Stuart could not stoop to speak the proud heretic fair.--What shall we do? Shall Lady Fleming try her eloquence in describing the last new head-tire from Paris?--alas! the good dame has not changed the fashion of her head-gear since Pinkie-field for aught that I know. Shall my mignóne Catherine sing to her one of those touching airs, which draw the very souls out of me and Roland Graeme?--Alas! Dame Margaret Douglas would rather hear a Huguenot psalm of Clement Marrot, sung to the tune of Reveillez vous, belle endormie.--Cousins and liege counsellors, what is to be done, for our wits are really astray in this matter?--Must our man-at-arms and the champion of our body, Roland Graeme, manfully assault the old lady, and take the keys from her par voie du fait?"

"Nay! with your Grace's permission." said Roland, "I do not doubt being able to manage the matter with more discretion; for though, in your Grace's service, I do not fear--"

"A host of old women," interrupted Catherine, "each armed with rock and spindle, yet he has no fancy for pikes and partisans, which might rise at the cry of Help! a Douglas, a Douglas!"

"They that do not fear fair ladies' tongues," continued the page, "need dread nothing else.--But, gracious Liege, I am well-nigh satisfied that I could pass the exchange of these keys on the Lady Lochleven; but I dread the sentinel who is now planted nightly in the garden, which, by necessity, we must traverse."

"Our last advices from our friends on the shore have promised us assistance in that matter," replied the Queen.

"And is your Grace well assured of the fidelity and watchfulness of those without?"

"For their fidelity, I will answer with my life, and for their vigilance, I will answer with my life--I will give thee instant proof, my faithful Roland, that they are ingenuous and trusty as thyself. Come hither--Nay, Catherine, attend us; we carry not so deft a page into our private chamber alone. Make fast the door of the parlour, Fleming, and warn us if you hear the least step--or stay, go thou to the door, Catherine," (in a whisper, "thy ears and thy wits are both sharper.)--Good Fleming, attend us thyself"--(and again she whispered, "her reverend presence will be as safe a watch on Roland as thine can--so be not jealous, mignone.")

Thus speaking, they were lighted by the Lady Fleming into the Queen's bedroom, a small apartment enlightened by a projecting window.