jesty's favourite steed, which is impatiently awaiting in the stable
the moment when, mounted on her, your Majesty will make your triumphal
re-entry into Edinburgh."

"And how has he been able to get her back again?" Mary asked. "I thought
that in the division of my spoils Rosabelle had fallen to the fair
Alice, my brother's favourite sultana?"

"Yes, yes," said Mary Seyton, "it was so; and as her value was known,
she was kept under lock and key by an army of grooms; but Douglas is
the man of miracles, and, as I have told you, Rosabelle awaits your
Majesty."

"Noble Douglas!" murmured the queen, with eyes full of tears; then, as
if speaking to herself, "And this is precisely one of those devotions
that we can never repay. The others will be happy with honours, places,
money; but to Douglas what matter all these things?"

"Come, madam, come," said Mary Seyton, "God takes on Himself the debts
of kings; He will reward Douglas. As to your Majesty, reflect that they
are waiting dinner for you. I hope," added she, smiling, "that you will
not affront my father as you did Lord Douglas yesterday in refusing to
partake of his feast on his fortunate home-coming."

"And luck has come to me for it, I hope," replied Mary. "But you are
right, darling: no more sad thoughts; we will consider when we have
indeed become queen again what we can do for Douglas."

The queen dressed and went down. As Mary Seyton had told her, the chief
noblemen of her party, already gathered round her, were waiting for
her in the great hall of the castle. Her arrival was greeted with
acclamations of the liveliest enthusiasm, and she sat down to table,
with Lord Seyton on her right hand, Douglas on her left, and behind her
Little William, who the same day was beginning his duties as page.

Next morning the queen was awakened by the sound of trumpets and bugles:
it had been decided the day before that she should set out that day
for Hamilton, where reinforcements were looked for. The queen donned an
elegant riding-habit, and soon, mounted on Rosabelle, appeared amid her
defenders. The shouts of joy redoubled: her beauty, her grace, and her
courage were admired by everyone. Mary Stuart became her own self once
more, and she felt spring up in her again the power of fascination she
had always exercised on those who came near her. Everyone was in good
humour, and the happiest of all was perhaps Little William, who for the
first time in his life had such a fi