"Plotting—eh?"
"Nay, my Lord of Bothwell; I have had enough of that," replied the soldier coldly. "We were simply reducing the bulk of our correspondence to suit the compass of our cloak-bags, committing some papers to the flames, and selecting others for conveyance to England, for whither we set out——"
"Not before the convention at Stirling, I hope?"
"No."
"When?"
"Immediately after. Our work will then be completed, for peace or for war—for good or for evil."
"But time presses, and our man is not yet gone," said Glencairn, glancing anxiously from the window.
"What would your lordships with us?" asked Shelly; "and to what do we owe the honour of this visit?"
"To our lack of skill in the perilous art of clerking like worthy Master Patten," replied Glencairn.
"And to our zeal in the young king your master's service," added Bothwell, with his quiet mocking smile.