That dawn, to Mary, was but the opening of another chapter in her life of misery and tears.
In one month from that day, Bothwell, instead of seating himself upon the Scottish throne, and making Black Hob an Earl, found all his stupendous projects fade away, like mist in the sunshine, and saw himself a homeless fugitive, cast, like a weed, upon the ocean of events.
The general, but somewhat curious indignation this marriage excited among those nobles who had urged it (having never had any other object in view than the gratification of their own greed and ambition), and their armed confederation against Bothwell, soon followed, for they accused him of intending to destroy the young prince, who was kept at Stirling by the Countess of Mar, and whom ostensibly they rose in arms to defend.
On this measure he was frequently urged by Black Hob.
"Cock and pie!" that worthy would frequently exclaim; "were this young cub once strangled too, thou mightst be king of broad Scotland, and I a belted earl."
"Tempter, begone!" replied the Earl, grasping his poniard; "far enough hast thou driven me on this desperate career—but another whisper of this, and thou diest!"
The armed combination soon made the Earl and his knights rush to arms; and, of all who followed his banner, there were none who hailed the approaching civil war with greater ardour than Ormiston and Bolton. The first, because, by a long career of profligacy, he had utterly ruined an ancient patrimony; the second, with a stern joy, because he was reckless, tired of life, and longing only for an honourable death, that in the oblivion of the grave he might for ever forget Mariette, and that remorse which rendered him miserable.
But Mary's surrender to the peers, and Bothwell's flight, frustrated their hopes for a time.
On the hill of Carberry, within view of the adverse lines, Mary and the Earl were parted to meet no more; and it is recorded that he bade her adieu with more sincerity of sorrow than might have been expected in one so long hardened by private and political profligacy.
"Farewell to thee, Lord Earl!" said the Queen kindly, for she was ever gentle; "nathless all that hath passed, Mary Stuart can still with kindness say farewell, and God attend thee."