nd duress.
When each in his turn had made the brief pleading oration he had
prepared, she dried her eyes and controlled herself by obvious effort.

"My lords," she said, in a voice that quivered and broke on every other
word, "when have ye ever found me blood-thirsty, or greedy of your lands
or goods that you must use me so, and take such means with me? Ye have
set my authority at naught, and wrought sedition in this realm. Yet I
forgive you all, that by this clemency I may move you to a better love
and loyalty. I desire that all that is passed may be buried in oblivion,
so that you swear to me that in the future you will stand my friends and
serve me faithfully, who am but a weak woman, and sorely need stout men
to be my friends."

For a moment her utterance was checked by sobs. Then she controlled
herself again by an effort so piteous to behold that even the
flinty-hearted Ruthven was moved to some compassion.

"Forgive this weakness in me, who am very weak, for very soon I am to be
brought to bed as you well know, and I am in no case to offer resistance
to any. I have no more to say, my lords. Since you promise on your side
that you will put all disloyalty behind you, I pledge myself to remit
and pardon all those that were banished for their share in the late
rising, and likewise to pardon those that were concerned in the killing
of Seigneur Davie. All this shall be as if it had never been. I pray
you, my lords, make your own security in what sort you best please, and
I will subscribe it."

Morton proffered her the document they had prepared. She conned it
slowly, what time they watched her, pausing ever and anon to brush aside
the tears that blurred her vision. At last she nodded her lovely golden
head.

"It is very well," she said. "All is here as I would have it be between
us." And she turned to Darnley. "Give me pen and ink, my lord."

Darnley dipped a quill and handed it to her. She set the parchment
on the little pulpit at her side. Then, as she bent to sign, the pen
fluttered from her fingers, and with a deep, shuddering sigh she sank
back in her chair, her eyes closed, her face piteously white.

"The Queen is faint!" cried Murray, springing forward.

But she rallied instantly, smiling upon them wanly.

"It is naught; it is past," she said. But even as she spoke she put a
hand to her brow. "I am something dizzy. My condition--" She faltered on
a trembling note of appeal that increased their compassio