ere his thoughts as he was rowed across the loch at a
more reasonable hour, when the sunshine shone on every ripple of the
water, and the green hills lay basking in the light. Did he look with
jealous eyes, and wonder whether the grey walls among the trees on St.
Serf's isle were giving shelter to some idolatrous priest? or was his
heart invaded by the beauty of the morning, the heavenly quiet, the
murmur of soft sound? His mind was heavy we know with cares for the
Church, fears for the stability of the Reformation itself, forebodings
of punishment and cursings more habitual to his thoughts, and perhaps
more congenial to the time, than prosperity and blessing. It might be
even that a faint apprehension (not fear, for in his own person Knox had
little occasion for fear even had he been of a timorous nature) of
further trouble with the Queen overclouded his aspect: and if he caught
a glimpse of the ladies and their cavaliers on the mainland, the joyous
cavalcade would rouse no sympathetic pleasure, so sure was he that their
frolics and youthful pleasure were leading to misery and doom--in which,
alas! he was too sooth a prophet.

But when Knox met the Queen's Majestie "be-west Kinross," Mary all
bright with exercise and pleasure had forgotten, or else had no mind to
remember, the offence of the previous night. She began to talk to him of
ordinary matters, of Ruthven who had (save the mark!)--dark Ruthven not
many years removed from that dreadful scene in the closet at
Holyrood--offered her a ring, and other such lively trifles. She then
turned to more serious discourse, warning Knox against Alexander Gordon,
titular Bishop of Athens, "who was most familiar with the said John in
his house and at his table," and whose professions of faith seemed so
genuine that he was about to be made Superintendent of Dumfries. "If you
knew him as well as I do, you would never promote him to that office nor
to any other within your Kirk," she said. "Thereintil was not the Queen
deceived," says Knox, though without any acknowledgment of the service
she did the Church: for on her hint he caused further inquiries to be
made, and foiled the Bishop. Again, as so often, a picture arises before
our eyes most significant and full of interest. Mary upon her horse,
perhaps pausing now and then to glance afar into the wide space, where
her hawk hung suspended a dark speck in the blue, or whirled and circled
downward to strike its prey, while the preac