Turning on his heel he walked directly from the room and pulled-to the door after him. The Queen turned faint and had to be helped. They fetched in women to see to her; and the Council broke up, with a common intelligence passed silently from man to man.
Mary Livingstone, half the night through, heard her miserable wail. ‘Thrice a traitor, who has taught treachery to me! Thrice a traitor—and myself a lying woman!’ She heard her talking to herself—pattering the words like a mad-woman. ‘I must do it—I must do it—no sleep for me until I do it. All, all, all—nothing hid. Things shall go as they must. But he will never believe in me again—and oh! he will be right.’
The very next day she sent for the Earl of Bothwell, who was at Hermitage; and, when it was time, awaited him in that shady garden of the Chequer House—she alone in the mirk of evening. Whenas she heard his quick tread upon the grass she shivered a little and drew her hood close about her face; so that all he could see—and that darkly—was her tall figure, the thin white wrist and the hand holding the hood about her chin. Prepared for any flight of her mind, grown so much the less ceremonious as he was the more familiar, he saluted her with exaggerated courtliness; the plumes of his hat brushed the grass as he swept them round him. She did not move or speak. He looked for her eyes, but could not see them.
‘Madam, I am here. Always, in all places, at the service of my Sovereign.’
‘Hush!’ she said: ‘not so loud. I have to speak with you upon an urgent affair. I can hardly bring myself to do it—and yet—I must.’
‘Madam, I fear that you suffer. Why should you speak?’
‘Because I must. You called me your Sovereign.’
‘And so, madam, you are, and shall be.’
‘That is why I choose to speak.’ She took a long deep breath. ‘The King has been here,’ she said; ‘has been here and is gone.’
He replied nothing, but watched her swaying outline. There would be more to come.