‘Mr. Secretary,’ said she, ‘you shall send up presently to the Castle. I desire to know how doth Sir Adam of Gordon. Bring me word as soon as may be.’ She had returned kindly to the old Earl when her brother was back by the bed.
‘Madam,’ he said to her, but looked directly at his foe, ‘the injuries of my Lord Huntly’s family are not ended, it appears. They bring me news——’
That was a slip; the Queen’s cheeks burned. ‘Ah, they bring you news, my lord!’
He hastened to add: ‘And I, as my duty is, report to your Majesty, that Sir John Gordon of Findlater hath, within this hour, broken ward. He is away, madam, leaving an honest man dead in his room.’ He had made a false step in the beginning, but the news redeemed him.
The Queen looked very grave. ‘What have you to say to this, Lord of Huntly?’
‘I say that he is my very son, madam,’ cried the stout old chief, ‘and readier with his wits than that encroacher over there.’
Mr. Secretary Lethington covered a smile; the Queen did not. But she replied: ‘And I say that he is too ready with his wits; and to you, my lord, I say that you must fetch him back. I will not be defied.’
She saw his dogged look, and admired it in him. Well she knew how to soften him now!
‘There shall be no bargain between you and me,’ she continued, looking keenly at him; ‘but as I have passed my word, now pass you yours. I will take care of the boy. He shall be here, and I will teach him to love his Queen better than his father can do it, I believe. That is my part. Now for yours: go you out and bring me back Sir John.’