The next morning, at dinner-time, an unusual incident occurred. While Lady Douglas of Lochleven performed her daily duty of assistant and taster at the Queen's table, she was told a man-at-arms had arrived, recommended by her son, but without any letter or other token than what he brought by word of mouth.
“Hath he given you that token?” demanded the Lady.
“He reserved it, as I think, for your Ladyship's ear,” replied Randal.
“He doth well,” said the Lady; “tell him to wait in the hall—But no—with your permission, madam,” (to the Queen) “let him attend me here.”
“Since you are pleased to receive your domestics in my presence,” said the Queen, “I cannot choose—”
“My infirmities must plead my excuse, madam,” replied the Lady; “the life I must lead here ill suits with the years which have passed over my head, and compels me to waive ceremonial.”
“Oh, my good Lady,” replied the Queen, “I would there were nought in this your castle more strongly compulsive than the cobweb chains of ceremony; but bolts and bars are harder matters to contend with.”
As she spoke, the person announced by Randal entered the room, and Roland Graeme at once recognized in him the Abbot Ambrosius.
“What is your name, good fellow?” said the Lady.
“Edward Glendinning,” answered the Abbot, with a suitable reverence.