te when they heard a
key turn in the lock: they immediately blew out the lamp. Light steps
approached the door. The two women leaned one against the other; for
they both were near falling. Someone tapped gently. The queen asked who
was there, and Little Douglas's voice answered in the two first lines of
an old ballad--

"Douglas, Douglas, Tender and true."

Mary opened, directly: it was the watchword agreed upon with George
Douglas.

The child was without a light. He stretched out his hand and encountered
the queen's: in the starlight, Mary Stuart saw him kneel down; then she
felt the imprint of his lips on her fingers.

"Is your Majesty ready to follow me?" he asked in a low tone, rising.

"Yes, my child," the queen answered: "it is for this evening, then?"

"With your Majesty's permission, yes, it is for this evening."

"Is everything ready?"

"Everything."

"What are we to do?"

"Follow me everywhere."

"My God! my God!" cried Mary Stuart, "have pity on us!" Then, having
breathed a short prayer in a low voice, while Mary Seyton was taking the
casket in which were the queen's jewels, "I am ready," said she: "and
you, darling?"

"I also," replied Mary Seyton.

"Come, then," said Little Douglas.

The two prisoners followed the child; the queen going first, and Mary
Seyton after. Their youthful guide carefully shut again the door behind
him, so that if a warder happened to pass he would see nothing; then
he began to descend the winding stair. Half-way down, the noise of the
feast reached them, a mingling of shouts of laughter, the confusion of
voices, and the clinking of glasses. The queen placed her hand on her
young guide's shoulder.

"Where are you leading us?" she asked him with terror.

"Out of the castle," replied the child.

"But we shall have to pass through the great hall?"

"Without a doubt; and that is exactly what George foresaw. Among the
footmen, whose livery your Majesty is wearing, no one will recognise
you."

"My God! my God!" the queen murmured, leaning against the wall.

"Courage, madam," said Mary Seyton in a low voice, "or we are lost."

"You are right," returned the queen; "let us go". And they started again
still led by their guide.

At the foot of the stair he stopped, and giving the queen a stone
pitcher full of wine--

"Set this jug on your right shoulder, madam," said he; "it will hide
your face from the guests, and your Majesty will give rise to less
suspicion i