“As a loyal Scot you are bound to pay your devoir to her Majesty,” she said. “Though neither of us have much recollection of our native wilds, we still regard our country with affection.”
Nigel felt that there was no escaping, and mustering courage, went boldly forward till he reached the spot where the young queen was standing with several lords and ladies in attendance. Though unaccustomed to courts, he had too much native dignity to be overawed, and bending on his knee he lifted the hand of the young queen to his lips and reverently kissed it. Mary bestowed on him one of those fascinating smiles which in after years bound many a victim to her feet, and bidding him rise, questioned him about the affairs of Scotland, and various particulars regarding her lady mother the Regent, from whom he had been the bearer of a package. Nigel, gaining courage, replied discreetly to the young queen’s questions. The Dauphin, however, made some remark which induced her to dismiss her countryman, when Nigel fell back to where he had left Constance, who had been rejoined by his cousin.
“You comported yourself admirably, and I congratulate you,” said the latter. “You will, I am sure, after a little experience become a perfect courtier.”
“I would not advise him to make the experiment,” said Constance.
“There is little fear of it,” answered Nigel. “I hope ere long to find myself on the wide ocean, where I may breathe the free air of heaven, which I much prefer to the atmosphere of a court; but I must crave your pardon, fair ladies, for showing a disinclination to live where I might bask in the sunshine of your smiles.”
“That speech is truly worthy of a courtier,” said Mary Seton, laughing. “Come, come, cousin, change your mind. Constance, you will help me to bring this gentleman to reason?”
“I would not attempt to influence him, even if I could,” answered the young lady. “He has decided wisely. In your heart you know, Mary, that he is right; you yourself despise the miserable butterflies who hover round us with their sweet speeches, empty heads, and false hearts.”
Constance de Tourville was continuing in the same strain, when the young queen, with her attendants and the other ladies and gentlemen of the court, was seen moving towards the palace, and she and Mary Seton were compelled to follow them. While Nigel was paying his parting adieus to the young ladies, a sigh escaped his cousin as he pressed her hand to his lips, for she knew the probability that they might not meet again. Her heart was still faithful to Scotland, and she loved her kith and kindred.
“Remember,” said Constance, as he paid her the same mark of respect. “Be careful what you say to strangers: but you may trust Maître Leroux; he is honest.”