urderers' men-at-arms--had escaped by one of the windows. The alarm
they spread in Edinburgh brought the provost and townsmen in arms to the
palace by torchlight, demanding to see the Queen, and refusing to depart
until Darnley had shown himself and assured them that all was well
with the Queen and with himself. And what time Darnley gave them this
reassurance from a window of her room, Mary herself stood pale and taut
amid the brutal horde that on this alarm had violated the privacy of her
chamber, while the ruffianly Red Douglas flashed his dagger before her
eyes, swearing that if she made a sound they would cut her into collops.

When at last they withdrew and left her to herself, they left her
no illusions as to her true condition. She was a prisoner in her own
palace. The ante-rooms and courts were thronged with the soldiers of
Morton and Ruthven, the palace itself was hemmed about, and none might
come or go save at the good pleasure of the murderers.

At last Darnley grasped the authority he had coveted. He dictated
forthwith a proclamation which was read next morning at Edinburgh Market
Cross--commanding that the nobles who had assembled in Edinburgh to
compose the Parliament that was to pass the Bill of Attainder should
quit the city within three hours, under pain of treason and forfeiture.

And meanwhile, with poor Rizzio's last cry of "justice!" still ringing
in her ears, Mary sat alone in her chamber, studying revenge as she
had promised. So that life be spared her, justice, she vowed, should
be done--punishment not only for that barbarous deed, but for the very
manner of the doing of it, for all the insult to which she had been
subjected, for the monstrous violence done her feelings and her very
person, for the present detention and peril of which she was full
conscious.

Her anger was the more intense because she never permitted it to diffuse
itself over the several offenders. Ruthven, who had insulted her so
grossly; Douglas, who had offered her personal violence; the Laird
of Faudonside, Morton, and all the others who held her now a helpless
prisoner, she hew for no more than the instruments of Darnley. It was
against Darnley that all her rage was concentrated. She recalled in
those bitter hours all that she had suffered at his vile hands, and
swore that at whatever cost to herself he should yield a full atonement.

He sought her in the morning emboldened by the sovereign power he
was usurping confide