her authority and in resistance to her will. "The Queen was not
a little rejoiced," says Knox, "for she thought once to be revenged of
that her great enemy." And it was evident that Mary did look forward to
the satisfaction of crushing this arrogant priest and achieving a final
triumph over the man whom she could neither awe nor charm out of his own
determined way.

[Illustration: WEST DOORWAY, HOLYROOD CHAPEL]

The commotion produced by these proceedings was unexampled. One after
another of the men who had by Knox's side led the entire movement of the
Reformation and to whom he had been spokesman, secretary, and
counsellor, came with grave looks and anxious urgency to do what they
could to procure his submission. The Master of Maxwell, hitherto his
great friend, but who now broke off from him entirely, was the first to
appear; Then Speirs of Condie (whom he convinced), then Murray and
Lethington with whom he held one of those long arguments which were of
frequent recurrence, and which are always highly dramatic--the dour
preacher holding his own like a stone wall before all the assaults,
light, brilliant, and varied, of the accomplished secretary, whose smile
of contempt at the unconquerable personage before him and his "devout
imaginations" is often mingled with that same exasperation which drove
Mary to the womanish refuge of tears. But no one could move him. And at
last the day, or rather night, of the trial came.

It was in December, the darkest moment of the year, between six and
seven in the evening, when the Lords assembled at Holyrood, and the
formidable culprit was introduced to their presence. The rumour had
spread in the town that Knox was to be put on his trial, and the whole
Congregation came with him down the Canongate, filling the court of
Holyrood with a dark surging mass of men, who crowded the very stairs
towards the room in which the council was held. The lords were "talking
ane with another" in the preliminary moment before the council was
formed, when Knox entered the room. They were then told to take their
places, headed on one side by "the Duke" Chatelherault, and on the other
by Argyle. Murray, Glencairn, Ruthven, the Earl Marischal, Knox's tried
companions in arms, who had stood with him through many a dark day, took
their seats with averted looks, his judges now, and judges offended,
repulsed, their old sympathies aggravating the breach. Then came the
Queen "with no little worldly pomp," and