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“George,” she cried, “you are so self-effacing that I feel I have to tell you every time I see you that I shall never forget what you have done for me.”

“It is enough reward for me to see Your Majesty free,” murmured George.

She told him that she was going to repudiate the Abdication and that he, with Melville, was to be a witness to the fact that she had signed under pressure.

George’s face brightened at the prospect of being of further assistance to her; she immediately called a council and made her formal declaration that the Abdication was null and void.

Immediately afterward, for all were aware of a great urgency knowing that Moray would act swiftly, there was a meeting at which the next step was discussed.

Seated around the council table with such tried friends as Lords Seton and Livingstone, were Lord Claud Hamilton and Lord Herries with Sir Robert Melville; and Mary had insisted that George Douglas should be present.

“We seem strong,” said Mary, “but we must remember that Moray is strong also, and that in his hands are the royal arsenals of Edinburgh and Stirling Castles, also Dunbar. He has the revenues at his disposal and all my most precious jewels are in his possession. I have little with which to pay those who fight for me, although in good time I hope to regain all that I have lost and so pay my debts. The first step I propose is to write to France and ask for help. I believe that the King of France would be eager to help me, although I am not sure of his mother. I suggest therefore that we send, without delay, a trusty messenger to France who will lay this matter before King Charles and ask his help in my name.”

This was agreed to be wise and John Beaton was chosen for the mission. He agreed to make his preparations and set out immediately.

“Your Majesty,” said Lord Seton, “we must prepare for battle without delay.”

A slight frown touched Mary’s brows. “I had hoped that we could settle our differences without resort to violence,” she said. “I propose to send a letter to the Regent Moray with a copy of my revocation of the Abdication, which was forced upon me during my imprisonment, and to assure him that if he will restore my rights to me peacefully, I will forgive him all that he has done against me; and because I have respect for his powers I shall wish him to work with me in the government of this realm.”

Melville shook his head; Seton was disturbed.

“Your Majesty,” said the latter, “we must remember that the Regent has shown himself to be your enemy. It was on his instructions that you were kept in rigorous confinement.”

“I know,” replied Mary; and she looked around the company with a smile that held some exasperation. How could she explain to them: I understand Jamie. He even has my sympathy. There is not a more ambitious man in Scotland—and we must remember how frustrating it must be to have been born a bastard when you long to wear the crown. Oh poor frustrated Jamie! He made me a prisoner; he wished to rule Scotland. He shall no longer do so, but I could make him happy with some post worthy of his exceptional abilities.

No, they would never understand her.

He is my brother! she wanted to cry. The Stuart blood runs through our veins. He was unjust to me, but I could never be so to him. The matter would lie on my conscience. I should remember it all my life.

Therefore she would not listen to their advice. At least she would give James a chance to confer peaceably. The idea of a civil war in Scotland was abhorrent; but that it should be war between brother and sister was doubly so.

No. She must give Jamie a chance to be her friend. She must forgive and try to forget.

So she wrote to Moray.

WHEN MORAY heard the news of the Queen’s escape he was dumbfounded. He let out an exclamation of rage—something he had rarely done in his life; but in that moment of dismay he was beyond self-control.

Escaped from Lochleven, and now at Hamilton Castle where supporters were rallying to her banner!

He sought out Morton at once.

“This is disastrous!” cried Morton.

“Nay,” answered James, almost his calm self again. “It is bad, but we must not be over-disconsolate. Deeply as I regret what has happened, there may still be a chance to settle this matter once and for all.”

“They say supporters are rallying to her side.”

“She will not have the money to pay them.”

“Doubtless she will receive help from France.”

“I am afraid of that. But it will take a little time before aid can reach her. In the meantime we have the arms. We also have her jewels. I shall immediately offer her pearls to Elizabeth of England.”

“You think she will buy them?”

“I know she will. She has wanted them ever since she heard that Mary was a prisoner in Lochleven.”

Morton looked at Moray. A sly one, thought Morton; so he had already been in negotiation with Elizabeth over the pearls! You could trust Moray to be one step ahead of his enemies—and his friends. Morton believed—in spite of rumors that were in the air—that he was on the right side.

“She will offer twelve thousand crowns for them,” went on Moray.

“I had heard they are worth sixteen thousand.”

“It is so. But the Queen of England dearly loves a bargain and it is to our advantage to please her. Moreover she has an obsession about her cousin of Scotland and constantly longs to outshine her in all things. She is the vainest woman in the world, and there have been too many reports of my sister’s beauty and charm which have reached her. She hates her rival. In truth she was delighted to hear she was a prisoner in Lochleven, robbed of her comfort and luxury. She constantly inquires about the health of her dear cousin, and professes concern that imprisonment may have impaired her beauty, fervently hoping all the time that it has. She wants the pearls so that Mary cannot have them and she will pay for them without delay. We shall need the money.”

“You think we can rely on her help?”

Moray nodded slowly. “She will offer congratulations to Mary; she will rage against the indignity done to Royalty; and she will turn a blind eye and a deaf ear while her minister, Cecil, supports the Protestants of Scotland against the Catholics. Throckmorton assures me of this.”

“But meanwhile Mary may receive help from France.”

“It is wrong, I believe, to wait for help from England. By then Mary may have received help from France. There must be a battle if we are to preserve the throne for James VI; we must prepare for that battle and it must take place without delay. In the meantime I will write humbly to my sister so that she will think I am considering her proposals. But make no mistake about it. The time to strike is close at hand. If we delay we shall have the Highlanders marching South. I doubt not that when Huntley heard the news he began shouting the battle cry.”

“You are right,” agreed Morton. “To delay would be to give the Queen the advantage.”

MARY WAS DISCONSOLATE because Moray had now shown his true intentions. After seeming to be considering a reconciliation he had put in irons the messenger whom she had sent to him in Glasgow.

There must be a battle. Her advisers were optimistic because she had now a force of six thousand, while Moray had under four thousand. Victory seemed inevitable and she was glad that the battle would not be delayed because, having at Carberry Hill seen how rapidly an army could turn against its leaders, she was afraid of a similar occurrence when those who had rallied to fight for her knew that she had—until she gained the victory—no means of paying them for their services.

There was trouble within her ranks. She had given the command of the army to the Earl of Argyle who was the husband of a half-sister of hers—one of her father’s bastards. Mary, who had always longed to be one of a large family, had constantly shown indulgence toward her father’s bastards. However, Lord Claud Hamilton thought that the command should have been offered to him. This was an unfortunate state of affairs particularly as neither of the contestants was noted for his military genius, and against them Moray would have the best general in Scotland—Kirkcaldy of Grange, one of the Queen’s most bitter enemies.