adherents and members of her French Court, he also regarded as calculated to continue that desirable intimacy.

"Perhaps," said Dufroy, “had I still enjoyed the confidence of the Queen, the roughness of the nobles might not have so soon hastened my determination: but that being no longer allowed, my occupation is gone. To her, as the widow of France, my homage and service were due, and they were loyally performed; but I have no right nor claim to meddle in your troubled politics, nor motive to remain where I can only expect mortifications."

Southennan, not being yet aware that the pardon of Knockwhinnie had been granted upon the solicitation of Chatelard, or, at least, was so believed, expressed some degree of surprise at hearing the Count thus open in his dissatisfaction, and said— "It gives me pain to think worth like yours should be so little esteemed here, that the apprehension of neglect moves you to leave us."

"Not the apprehension only, but the experience. Know you not that the Queen has pardoned Knockwhinnie?"

"I have heard it rumoured that she was likely to do so," replied our hero; "but I did not fear it would have been felt by you so much as an injury, though acquainted with your sentiments respecting the nature of his offence."

Then you cannot have heard in what manner it has been granted?"

"I have been just told that it was suspected nor has it surprised me; so much has her Majesty been urged to it; last night she almost conceded as much to the Abbot of Kilwinning."

"Had she done it then," replied the Count, "and on the solicitation of one so valued, I might have been at question with myself on the propriety of the grace; but to refuse so good and great a man-a dignitary both of the church and realm-and yield on the first asking to one scarce better than a menial! Oh, shame!"

"Was it to Chatelard ?".

"Would it were in my power, Southennan," cried the Count, with irrepressible emotion, "to give you a rude answer, for imputing the possibility of such weakness to her who, till this fatal morning, hath ever been untarnished as the pearl that can receive no stain. Alas! 'tis even as you have said.”

"It grieves me exceedingly," replied our hero, "to see how deeply this matter affects you. I am in part to blame, having been the first to entreat the mediation of Chatelard ?”

"Why did you that? What suggestion moved you to think his mediation might be of any efficacy?"

The Count, in asking these two simple questions, appearedalarmed, and suddenly thrown off his guard, which Southennan observing, became confused; for he could not well answer either, without explaining his suspicions of Chatelard's attachment to the Queen.

"Have you noticed aught particular in her conduct towards him?" resumed Dufroy eagerly, without waiting for an

answer.

"Not in hers," replied Southennan.

"But in his towards her? Is it so ?" exclaimed the highminded Frenchman; and he added, in a tone of affecting compassion, "Truly, it must be so. The destiny of her family hath overtaken her: but it mitigates the misfortune that he had not dared of his own presumption to be so bold."

While they were thus speaking Rizzio happened to pass across the gallery, and Dufroy beckoned him to draw near. "Can you, Rizzio," said he, as the Italian approached, "tell us how this miracle came to pass?"

“What miracle! of what do you speak, my Lord ?" > "How have you not heard that the Queen, upon the intercession of Chatelard, has ordered a pardon to Knockwhinnie?"

"Impossible!" exclaimed Rizzio. "Presumptuous as he

is, he durst not venture on so bold a suit."

“Had he not been sure of success," rejoined the Count, with a sigh.

Rizzio, however, remarked that he might have been incited by his declared admiration of Adelaide.

"Yes," interposed Southennan: "it must be as you say.” And he recapitulated what had passed when he spoke with Chatelard on the subject.

But the Count gave little heed to what he said, which Rizzio observing, rejoined—

"Might it not have happened from the importunity with which her Majesty has been so beset ? She may have granted the pardon from annoyance, being unable to resist farther solicitation."

"It is well and loyally said," rejoined the Count, "but how came he to have been so bold as to interfere at all. It is, in its complexion, an adventure not reconcileable to common

causes.

Rizzio, conscious of the subtle part he had himself played

in the business, was visibly disturbed by this remark-so much so as to attract the attention of Southennan, who, in ignorance of the cause, said respectfully

"May it not be, my Lord, that this whole affair is too largely estimated? To you the rashness of Knock whinnie must be a thing of serious recollection; but the world, which has no special interest to remember it, will set little account on the pardon."

The Count looked at him gravely, and then added, with a steadily-sustained voice, approaching to severity,

"Think you it is the pardon that molests me; or that I can repine because the Queen has exercised the fairest attribute of royalty? No, Southennan; I am grieved only because she has conceded to Chatelard a favour refused to better men, and that too, in opposition to the wisdom of her Chancellor. It is a thing in itself, perhaps, of small importance; but, by the manner in which it has been done, it may be made serious. I pray to Heaven that evil may not come of it."

cause.

All this anxiety appeared to our hero disproportioned to the He thought there was, perhaps, something of envy in the tone with which Dufroy expressed himself concerning Chatelard, especially as he was persuaded that some lurking resentment still affected his disposition towards Knockwhinnie. But the alteration in the countenance of Rizzio, when the Count remarked that the proceeding of Chatelard was not to be accounted for by ordinary causes, haunted his imagination; and he suspected the Italian of being in some way a party to it. He, however, said nothing, deeming it prudent, in the dissatisfied mood of the Count, to refrain from any question or observation which might have the effect of exciting it still more. Dufroy himself was not inclined to continue the conversation.

The more the Count reflected on the transaction, he became the less content with his information. He discerned, by his innate perspicacity, that some peculiar instigation had influenced the conduct of Chatelard; and he was convinced it could not be the effect of that attachment only which he professed to cherish for Adelaide: for he was in common with many of the Court doubtful of its sincerity. In fine, he could not but entertain a derogatory suspicion of the Queen; and he resolved, in consequence, out of the true and dignified loyalty with which he was actuated, to avail himself once more of the freedom she had allowed to him on all occasions, to point out the hazard she ran of incurring the forfeiture of those golden opinions which her people seemed then so willing to treasure up for her.

CHAPTER LVII.

"Officious fool! that must needs meddling be
In business that concerns not thee."

COWLEY

SOUTHENNAN parted from Rizzio at the same time that the Count Dufroy retired. He was too well satisfied that Knockwhinnie had received a pardon, to feel any particular interest in the means by which it had been obtained. It seemed to

him, however, that Rizzio had been in some way accessary to the application of Chatelard, although he evidently wished not to be known in the transaction. These reflections passed through his mind as he was retiring, and some degree of curiosity was in consequence excited. He was too ingenuous himself to suspect others of sinister intentions, nor could he account for the embarrassment which the Italian appeared to suffer, as if an act of benevolence had been one of shame.

As he went out at the portal of the Palace he met Chatelard in a state of flushed exultation; his countenance was elated, and a vibratory emotion visibly affected his whole frame; his eyes were eager and unsteady, insomuch that he could neither look another firmly in the face, nor bear the inquisition of any eye bent upon his own, There was moreover an increased style of courtesy, bland and patronizing, in his manners, and an altogetherness of grace and condescension in his air and deportment which, to our hero, seemed incomprehensibly disproportioned to his circumstances. Their reciprocal salutations were stiff in their mode; with more, however, of an apparently assumed restraint on both sides, than of any actual diminution of intimacy.

Southennan congratulated him on the success of his application to the Queen, and cordially thanked him from himself for the favour he had been the means of procuring for his friend Knock whinnie, adding, however, in a tone tinged as it were with irony,

"This cannot fail to secure your triumph with Adelaide.

It must have been to you delightful to tell her how you had succeeded."

"I have scarcely seen her since," replied Chatelard.

"Was it not in her name you applied to her Majesty ?" Chatelard seemed a little confused at this question, but evidently gratified; for he answered in a simpering, half earnest, half jocular voice, that it was almost by an accident he had succeeded; and he then described how he had met the Queen and Lady Mary Livingstone in the garden.

"But how came you to think of applying at all, every other application having failed?”

"Of my own modesty," replied the Frenchman with a laugh, at the same time blushing, "I should not have undertaken the adventure; but Rizzio encouraged me."

"Indeed! to help your suite with Adelaide !" said Southennan. "But I must carry the glad news to her father," and with these words he wished Chatelard good morning.

He was not surprised to hear that Rizzio, who had so recently affected to know nothing of the pardon, had really been at the bottom of the whole affair: and he could only account for his equivocation, by supposing that he was afraid lest his interference might be resented by the Count Dufroy. It seemed a strange business and yet there was nothing in the incidents of it which ought to have surprised him, farther than that Chatelard should have dared to approach the Queen after so great a dignitary as the Abbot of Kilwinning had been obliged to retire unsatisfied.

through his mind, as he In the midst of them a

These thoughts passed rapidly slowly ascended the Canongate. hand was familiarly laid on his shoulder, and, on turning round, he found Rizzio at his side in a state of inward enjoyment, with that expression in his countenance of crafty gratification which is always the consequent and disagreeable index of triumphing cunning. Our hero on seeing him also smiled, and inquired, why it was that he had pretended to Dufroy ignorance of Chatelard's proceeding, when in fact he was the father of it.

Rizzio was, as the sailors say, taken aback by this sudden question, not being aware that Southennan had met with Chatelard; but he was ever too much the master of himself to be long disconcerted, and accordingly with his wonted readiness he replied,

"In sooth, Southennan, it seems but a thankless service to do you any good. You know that Chatelard's passion for