"Indeed!" said John Ramsay, his countenance falling. "I thought, from your words, that you were very sure of your game--I mean, sure that this man is plotting."
"As sure as I lie here and you sit there," answered his cousin; "but a man may be very sure himself, and yet not be able to make others so. The most dangerous traitors are always those who conceal their designs most carefully; and Gowrie is such. Calm and tranquil in speech, thoughtful and prudent in act, he never commits himself till his purposes are matured."
"Why, Begbie of the Red Hill, who saw him in Italy, told me he was frank and free, and fond of jest and harmless sport," replied John Ramsay.
"Begbie's a fool," answered the other, impatiently; "and for fools the earl can put on what character he likes. I saw Begbie as he came back through Paris, and he told me how the earl had shown him, at Geneva, little paper balls, which at his command rose into the air, and skimmed quite across the lake, and small figures of ducks and geese, that floated in a vessel of water, and came to whatever side he called them. Why, there is not a mountebank in France or England but would show him such wonders, and yet the fool took it all for magic, and half believed the earl to be a sorcerer."
"But if you have no charge against him," said his cousin, returning to the point, "I see not what can be done with the king."
Ramsay of Newburn mused. "If we knew a serpent to be in the garden," he said, at length, "and saw the grass moving towards a dear friend who lay sleeping there, should we not do well to wake him, even though we could not perceive the reptile under the covering through which it moved?" he asked, at length, in a slow emphatic tone.
"Assuredly," answered John Ramsay; "but we must be quite sure that there is a snake there, and afterwards seek for the beast to destroy it, otherwise our friend may be angry with us for breaking his slumber."
"Exactly so," rejoined the other; "and I think we can at least show that there is a snake in the grass, though perhaps not exactly where it lies. As to seeking the beast and destroying it, that must be done hereafter, if we find it venomous, as I believe it is."
"Come, come, to leave all such figures," said John Ramsay, "let me hear of what the king is to be warned. He is too wise and shrewd to listen to every tale that can be told, especially when he knows that the teller loves not the race against whom it bears. How shall I show him, or how will you show him, Andrew, that there is a snake in the garden? That is the question."
"I can do but little," answered his cousin. "Wild and reckless, seeking pastime and pleasure, and thoughtlessly getting into every kind of difficulty, I have neither reputation nor favour to back my words against the influence of a man so great; who has, moreover, a brother and a sister prime favourites at the court. You can do much, John; and I will tell you all I know, both that you yourself may see that there is just cause, and that your warning to the king may not prove vain."