His previous conductor guided him back till she landed him in the court of the palace; and although ‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh’ possessed to the full the loyalty of his countrymen, and a borderer’s devoted admiration for womanly beauty, he had no distinct recollection of the sovereign’s countenance, so completely was it effaced from his memory by her bewitching maid-of-honour.
Poor Dick! Many a long day afterwards his honest heart ached when he thought of that memorable night, recalling the merry eyes and the sunny hair and the dazzling figure of his fascinating guide. Brave, simple ‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh!’ He had better have been up to his neck in the softest moss in all Liddesdale.
CHAPTER VIII.
‘But had I wist, before I kist,
That love had been sae hard to win,
I’d have lock’d my heart in a case of gowd,
An’ pinn’d it wi’ a siller pin.’
It was the anniversary of the death of Francis II., and Mary, whose attachment to her youthful husband evinced itself by a scrupulous respect for his memory, had ordered a dirge to be performed in the Royal Chapel at Holyrood for the repose of his soul. The sacred edifice had been appropriately hung with black; nor was any accessory neglected that could enhance the gloom of the scene. Carpenters had been employed for some days previously in preparing the mournful display; and a good deal of murmuring and discontent had arisen both in the court and city at the proposed ordinance. The Godly, as the Protestant party somewhat presumptuously termed themselves, mistrusted this return to papal ceremonials, and made no secret of their dissatisfaction.