found breakfast ready, and William
Douglas standing near the table he was going to fulfil about the queen
the duties of carver and taster.

In spite of their hatred for Mary, the Douglases would have considered
it an eternal blemish on their honour if any accident should have
befallen the queen while she was dwelling in their castle; and it was
in order that the queen herself should not entertain any fear in this
respect that William Douglas, in his quality of lord of the manor, had
not only desired to carve before the queen, but even to taste first in
her presence, all the dishes served to her, as well as the water and the
several wines to be brought her. This precaution saddened Mary more
than it reassured her; for she understood that, while she stayed in the
castle, this ceremony would prevent any intimacy at table. However, it
proceeded from too noble an intention for her to impute it as a crime to
her hosts: she resigned herself, then, to this company, insupportable as
it was to her; only, from that day forward, she so cut short her meals
that all the time she was at Lochleven her longest dinners barely lasted
more than a quarter of an hour.

Two days after her arrival, Mary, on sitting down to table for
breakfast, found on her plate a letter addressed to her which had been
put there by William Douglas. Mary recognised Murray's handwriting, and
her first feeling was one of joy; for if a ray of hope remained to her,
it came from her brother, to whom she had always been perfectly kind,
whom from Prior of St. Andrew's she had made an earl in bestowing on him
the splendid estates which formed part of the old earldom of Murray,
and to whom, which was of more importance, she had since pardoned, or
pretended to pardon, the part he had taken in Rizzio's assassination.

Her astonishment was great, then, when, having opened the letter, she
found in it bitter reproaches for her conduct, an exhortation to do
penance, and an assurance several times repeated that she should never
leave her prison. He ended his letter in announcing to her that, in
spite of his distaste for public affairs, he had been obliged to accept
the regency, which he had done less for his country than for his sister,
seeing that it was the sole means he had of standing in the way of the
ignominious trial to which the nobles wished to bring her, as author, or
at least as chief accomplice, of Darnley's death. This imprisonment was
then clearly a great good