On an April day, as Mary rode along the Stirling road towards Edinburgh, her way was barred by a thousand armed horsemen in close array; and Bothwell, riding up, requested that she should accompany him to his castle of Dunbar. It was useless to resist. Once in the castle, Bothwell offered her his hand, and was proudly refused.
"Lord Earl," cried Mary, "thou mayest tremble when I leave Dunbar!"
"Madame," he replied, "thou shalt never leave Dunbar but as the bride of Bothwell!"
In May, Mary and Bothwell were married. A month later Bothwell fled before the wrath of an outraged nation, never to see Mary again; and within a week of their parting he roamed a pirate on the northern seas.
V.--Nemesis
A large Danish war vessel approached the port of Bergen, with prisoners to hand over to the castellan--the new castellan, for old Erick Rosenkrantz was dead. Chief of the captives was Bothwell, nonchalant but melancholy, pale, and more thoughtful than formerly; still, in pleasure and in sorrow, was he haunted by the shriek of the dying Darnley.
Near him stood one who was not a captive, but a returning wanderer. Konrad had again crossed the path of the earl; his vessel, long detained in port, and afterwards delayed by storms, had been captured by the Scottish pirate ship, and he had been rescued from this new misfortune by the great Norwegian war vessel.
The prisoners were escorted to the hall of the castle, and Bothwell assumed his most defiant look. The arras that concealed the daïs was withdrawn, and Bothwell looked upon the face of the hereditary castellan of Bergen, Anna Rosenkrantz!
On seeing the earl, she turned pale as death. The earl recovered instantly from his surprise, and bowed smilingly.
"Well, madam," said he, "we foresaw not this meeting!"