ater on Bothwell's own escape was
effected. Fian went back to his own home, where, according to James's
surmise, he had an interview with the Devil (i.e. Bothwell), and there he
tamely waited till the officers of the law came and recaptured him. This
tameness is not in keeping with the rest of his character. A man with
sufficient courage and resource to get out of a strongly guarded prison
would have made good his escape; an easy enough matter in those turbulent
times. Fian then must have been retaken because he wished to be retaken.
For fear of torture and in hope of pardon he signed the first confession,
implicating Bothwell,[152] yet later he endured agonies of torture with the
certainty of death rather than acknowledge one word which might lead to the
discovery that James was bent upon. James's surmise was perhaps more than a
mere guess; it was prompted by his knowledge of the facts. Fian had had an
interview with his Master, whom he believed to be God Incarnate, and like
many a Christian martyr he atoned for the first betrayal by steadfast
courage through cruel torment even to death.

Reading the accounts in the light of this supposition, it is seen that
every one, including James, suspected Bothwell. Even if they did not
acknowledge his divinity, they feared the magical powers which, as Chief of
the Witches, he was supposed to wield. It is impossible to study the
details of this period without realizing the extraordinary fear which James
had of his cousin; it was fear with an underlying horror, totally different
from his feeling towards his other turbulent subjects. When Bothwell,
seeking pardon, was introduced into Holyrood Palace by Lady Athol in the
early morning of July 24, 1593, he entered the King's chamber. James,
always undignified, was caught in the middle of his morning toilet; he
tried to run into the Queen's room, but the way was barred by Bothwell's
friends and the door was locked. 'The king, seeing no other refuge, asked
what they meant. Came they to seek his life? let them take it--they would
not get his soul.'[153] This remark, made in the urgency and excitement of
the moment, is highly significant. Had Bothwell been, like many of James's
other enemies, merely an assassin, James would not have spoken of his soul.
But Bothwell as the Devil of the witches had the right to demand the
yielding of the soul, and James was aware of the fact.

The birth of James's children removed Bothwell's hopes of succes