s love
without any possible reward. Do you understand?"
"Oh, madam, madam," answered Douglas, "is it not reward beyond my
deserts to see you daily, to cherish the hope that liberty will be
restored to you through me, and to have at least, if I do not give it
you, the certainty of dying in your sight?"
"Poor young man!" murmured Mary, her eyes raised to heaven, as if she
were reading there beforehand the fate awaiting her new defender.
"Happy Douglas, on the contrary," cried George, seizing the queen's
hand and kissing it with perhaps still more respect than love, "happy
Douglas! for in obtaining a sigh from your Majesty he has already
obtained more than he hoped."
"And upon what have you decided with my friends?" said the queen,
raising Douglas, who till then had remained on his knees before her.
"Nothing yet," George replied; "for we scarcely had time to see one
another. Your escape, impossible without me, is difficult even with
me; and your Majesty has seen that I was obliged publicly to fail in
respect, to obtain from my mother the confidence which gives me the good
fortune of seeing you to-day: if this confidence on my mother's or my
brother's part ever extends to giving up to me the castle keys, then you
are saved! Let your Majesty not be surprised at anything, then: in the
presence of others, I shall ever be always a Douglas, that is an enemy;
and except your life be in danger, madam, I shall not utter a word, I
shall not make a gesture which might betray the faith that I have
sworn you; but, on your side, let your grace know well, that present or
absent, whether I am silent or speak, whether I act or remain inert, all
will be in appearance only, save my devotion. Only," continued Douglas,
approaching the window and showing to the queen a little house on
Kinross hill,--"only, look every evening in that direction, madam, and
so long as you see a light shine there, your friends will be keeping
watch for you, and you need not lose hope."
"Thanks, Douglas, thanks," said the queen; "it does one good to meet
with a heart like yours from time to time--oh! thanks."
"And now, madam," replied the young man, "I must leave your Majesty; to
remain longer with you would be to raise suspicions, and a single doubt
of me, think of it well, madam, and that light which is your sole beacon
is extinguished, and all returns into night."
With these words, Douglas bowed more respectfully than he had yet done,
and withdre
|