ointed for him, and,
secondly, in meeting whatever temptations might be in store for him. Nay,
the cruel chaplain absolutely forbade the white, excited, eager boy to
spend half the night in chapel over the first division of these
penitential psalms and prayers, but on his obedience sent him at once to
his bed.

Malcolm could have torn his hair. Unabsolved! Still under the weight of
sin; still unpledged; still on dangerous ground; still left to a secular
life--and that without Esclairmonde! Why had he not gone to a French
Benedictine, who would have caught at his vow, and crowned his penitence
with some magnificent satisfying asceticism?

Yet something in his heart, something in the father's own authority, made
him submit; and in a tumult of feeling, more wretched even than before
his confession, he threw himself on his bed, expecting to charge the
tossings of a miserable night on Dr. Bennet, and to creep down barefoot
to the chapel in the early morning to begin his _Misereres_.

Instead of which, his first wakening was in broad daylight, by King James
standing over him. 'Malcolm,' he said, 'I have answered for you that you
are discreet and trusty. A message of weight is to be placed in your
hands. Come with me to the Duke of Bedford.'

Malcolm could only dress himself, and obediently follow to the chamber,
where sat the Duke, his whole countenance looking as if the light of his
life had gone out, but still steadfastly set to bear the heavy burden
that had been placed on his shoulders.

He called Malcolm to him, and showed him a ring, asking whether he knew
it.

'The King's signet--King Harry's,' said Malcolm.

He was then reminded how, in the winter, Henry had lost the ring, and
after having caused another to be made at Paris, had found it in the
finger of his gauntlet. Very few knew of the existence of this
duplicate. Bedford himself was not aware of it till it had been
mentioned by James and Lord Fitzhugh the chamberlain; and then search was
made for it, without effect, so that it evidently had been left with the
Queen. These private signets were of the utmost importance, far more so
than even the autograph; for, though signatures were just acquiring
individuality enough to become the best authentication, yet up to this
very reign the seal was the only valid affirmation. Such signets were
always destroyed on a prince's death, and it was of the utmost importance
that the duplicate should not be left