“Dryfesdale was not of the Church of Geneva, or of Scotland,” said the Lady of Lochleven, hastily.
“He was a heretic, however,” replied Mary; “there is but one true and unerring guide; the others lead alike into error.”
“Well, madam, I trust it will reconcile you to your retreat, that this deed shows the temper of those who might wish you at liberty. Blood-thirsty tyrants, and cruel men-quellers are they all, from the Clan-Ranald and Clan-Tosach in the north, to the Ferniherst and Buccleuch in the south—the murdering Seytons in the east, and—”
“Methinks, madam, you forget that I am a Seyton?” said Catherine, withdrawing her kerchief from her face, which was now coloured with indignation.
“If I had forgot it, fair mistress, your forward bearing would have reminded me,” said Lady Lochleven.
“If my brother has slain the villain that would have poisoned his Sovereign, and his sister,” said Catherine, “I am only so far sorry that he should have spared the hangman his proper task. For aught farther, had it been the best Douglas in the land, he would have been honoured in falling by the Seyton's sword.”
“Farewell, gay mistress,” said the Lady of Lochleven, rising to withdraw; “it is such maidens as you, who make giddy-fashioned revellers and deadly brawlers. Boys must needs rise, forsooth, in the grace of some sprightly damsel, who thinks to dance through life as through a French galliard.” She then made her reverence to the Queen, and added, “Do you also, madam, fare you well, till curfew time, when I will make, perchance, more bold than welcome in attending upon your supper board.—Come with me, Randal, and tell me more of this cruel fact.”
“'Tis an extraordinary chance,” said the Queen, when she had departed; “and, villain as he was, I would this man had been spared time for repentance. We will cause something to be done for his soul, if we ever attain our liberty, and the Church will permit such grace to a heretic.—But, tell me, Catherine, ma mignóne—this brother of thine, who is so frack, as the fellow called him, bears he the same wonderful likeness to thee as formerly?”
“If your Grace means in temper, you know whether I am so frack as the serving-man spoke him.”
“Nay, thou art prompt enough in all reasonable conscience,” replied the Queen; “but thou art my own darling notwithstanding—But I meant, is this thy twin-brother as like thee in form and features as formerly? I remember thy dear mother alleged it as a reason for destining thee to the veil, that, were ye both to go at large, thou wouldst surely get the credit of some of thy brother's mad pranks.”