It was nearly midnight when the door of the small room which had been
allotted to Ramsay of Newburn, opened, and, with a lamp in his hand
and a quiet stealthy step, his cousin John entered, and seated himself
at the foot of his bed. "I could not come before, Andrew," he said,
"for Dalhousie has been walking up and down the hall an hour beyond
his usual bed-time."
"Never mind, never mind," answered the other. "I can rest, but I
cannot sleep, John. I never sleep now till two or three o'clock, and
shall not do so, till I see those punished who deserve it."
"My longings go in the same way," said John Ramsay; "but my brother
has been telling me that you pulled back the curtain of the lady's
carriage in order to stare in at her. You should not have done that,
Andrew. I cannot call upon Gowrie for reparation after that."
"Pshaw! give not one moment's heed to private quarrels, John,"
answered his cousin, in a frank tone. "I might be wrong in the
business; and Lord Gowrie was certainly overbearing and unjust. I have
apologized, however, to the lady--not to him, and that matter is
settled; but there are other matters behind."
"Of a more public nature, I suppose, from what you say of private
quarrels," observed John Ramsay; "and I know right well that Alexander
Ruthven has run up a score which he may find it difficult to wipe off;
but the earl has nothing to do with that. Happily for him, he has been
so long absent that he cannot be suspected either of intrigues at
court or treason to the state."
"Be you not sure of that, John," replied the other. "Would I had as
free access to the king as you have, I would soon put his majesty upon
his guard against this haughty young lord, who is now wending back to
plot here as his ancestors did before him."
"I will soon bring you to the king's presence if you have any charge
to make against him," said his cousin. "If you accuse him boldly and
with good proof, you will not want supporters who will bear all before
them."
"Nay, but I have no direct charge to make, my good cousin," replied
Ramsay of Newburn; "and clear proofs are difficult to obtain."
"Indeed!" said John Ramsay, his countenance falling. "I thought, from
your words, that you were very sure of your game--I mean, sure that
this man is plotting."
"As sure as I lie here and you sit there," answered his cousin; "but a
man may be very sure himself, and yet not be able to make others so.
The most dangerous traitors are always those who conceal their designs
most carefully; and Gowrie is such. Calm and tranquil in speech,
thoughtful and prudent in act, he never commits himself till his
purposes are matured."
"Why, Begbie of the Red Hill, who saw him in Italy, told me he was
frank and free, and fond of jest and harmless sport," replied John
Ramsay.
"Begbie's a fool," answered the other, impatiently; "and for fools the
earl can put on what character he likes. I saw Begbie as he came back
through Paris, and he told me how the earl had shown him, at Geneva,
little paper balls, which at his command rose into the air, and
skimmed quite across the lake, and small figures of ducks and geese,
that floated in a vessel of water, and came to whatever side he called
them. Why, there is not a mountebank in France or England but would
show him such wonders, and yet the fool took it all for magic, and
half believed the earl to be a sorcerer."
"But if you have no charge against him," said his cousin, returning to
the point, "I see not what can be done with the king."
Ramsay of Newburn mused. "If we knew a serpent to be in the garden,"
he said, at length, "and saw the grass moving towards a dear friend
who lay sleeping there, should we not do well to wake him, even though
we could not perceive the reptile under the covering through which it
moved?" he asked, at length, in a slow emphatic tone.
"Assuredly," answered John Ramsay; "but we must be quite sure that
there is a snake there, and afterwards seek for the beast to destroy
it, otherwise our friend may be angry with us for breaking his
slumber."
"Exactly so," rejoined the other; "and I think we can at least show
that there is a snake in the grass, though perhaps not exactly where
it lies. As to seeking the beast and destroying it, that must be done
hereafter, if we find it venomous, as I believe it is."
"Come, come, to leave all such figures," said John Ramsay, "let me
hear of what the king is to be warned. He is too wise and shrewd to
listen to every tale that can be told, especially when he knows that
the teller loves not the race against whom it bears. How shall I show
him, or how will you show him, Andrew, that there is a snake in the
garden? That is the question."
"I can do but little," answered his cousin. "Wild and reckless,
seeking pastime and pleasure, and thoughtlessly getting into every
kind of difficulty, I have neither reputation nor favour to back my
words against the influence of a man so great; who has, moreover, a
brother and a sister prime favourites at the court. You can do much,
John; and I will tell you all I know, both that you yourself may see
that there is just cause, and that your warning to the king may not
prove vain."
"As to his brother," exclaimed John Ramsay, the object of whose
greatest animosity at that moment was Alexander Ruthven, "he may
indeed be a favourite at the court; but he is no favourite with the
king."
"That matters not," answered his cousin. "My word would go for little,
and even yours, perhaps, John, may not go for much; but I have no duty
to perform, and you a great one. Yet I would not have you hardly and
imprudently accuse the earl before we have stronger proofs."
"Then what would you have me do?" demanded the young man, interrupting
him impetuously.
"I will tell you what," answered his more wily cousin. "I would have
you point out to the king, how dangerous it is for some of his prime
nobles to sojourn for weeks at the court of the Queen of England--the
murderer of his mother, the unceasing enemy of his whole race--at the
court of her who has ever promoted treason and rebellion in his
kingdom, and received the banished traitors of Scotland as her best
friends. I would point out to the king, how dangerous this is," he
repeated, "especially when the person who does sojourn there is,
within a short remove, as near the throne of England as himself."
"I see--I see," answered John Ramsay. "I understand what you mean."
"I would, then," continued his cousin, "ask the king if he is aware
that the Earl of Gowrie has spent some weeks in Paris, almost in the
sole society of Sir Henry Neville, the English ambassador, seeing him
every day at his own house, and going but once to visit the
representative of his own monarch."
"But is this true? Did he do it?" inquired the other, eagerly.
"It is quite true, and can be proved by a dozen witnesses," answered
his cousin. "I have a statement of the fact in the saddle-bags which
lie there, given me by the master of the inn where the earl lodged in
Paris. He did this, and even more. I would then ask the king if he is
aware that honours almost royal were shown to this youth at the
English court; that the guard turned out at his presence; that
chamberlains and officers went down to meet him at the foot of the
stairs on his approach; that the queen always styled him, cousin, and
sometimes spoke of him as the nearest heir to her crown? I would ask
if his majesty were aware of the nature of those private conferences
which John Earl of Gowrie held with Robert Cecil and the Earl of
Essex, besides numerous others of the court, whom the king may think
more in his interests than they really are? I would also inquire
whether King James had heard of a project for marrying the Earl of
Gowrie to the Lady Arabella Stuart, and suffering the crown of England
to fall quietly on his head?"
"By Heaven! if all these things be true, he should be arrested for a
traitor the moment he sets foot in Scotland," cried John Ramsay, his
impetuous spirit jumping at conclusions far beyond those which his
cousin's words implied, or to which his intentions reached; "and I
will do it myself, if no one else will do so."
"No, no!" exclaimed the other. "You are too impetuous, John. The
arresting him on his arrival would but put all the other parties
concerned upon their guard, and enable him by their means to conceal
his treason by a skilful defence. Besides, the king dare not for his
life make the acts of his good sister of England matter of accusation
against her 'fair cousin of Gowrie.' Fie, man; for a courtier, thou
art but little of a politician. Tell his majesty what I say. Ask him
the questions which I have put. He hath information large enough, I
will warrant; but if he want more, let him demand it of me. I have
ligged for a fortnight in London, weak almost to death, and neglected
by every one, but a few trusty friends, who brought me all the secrets
of the court. There I heard of nothing but Gowrie, Gowrie. His star
was in the ascendant; and I have doubts, strange doubts about his
journey onward."
"Think you he will not come?" demanded John Ramsay, fixing his eyes
upon him.
"I do not know," answered his cousin, thoughtfully; "but if he do, it
will be for some purpose of which it were well to beware.--If he
stay," he continued, very slowly, "he stays to be King of England. If
he come back hither, it may be but to settle his affairs before he
returns, or perhaps--but I would not carry my thoughts to the daring
length to which it has been hinted he might carry his ambition. He has
no claim upon the crown of Scotland, even were the king removed. The
nobles of the land would never suffer it! What though his descent from
Margaret Tudor may give him some show of title to the English throne;
here he has no show of right whatsoever, and I will not believe it. Do
not mention what I have said on this head, John," he continued, taking
his cousin's hand and pressing it; "do not mention it, on any account.
All the rest I can prove; but this is merely the rash suspicion of one
who knows not our habits and our customs, and whom I am bound in
honour not to name. He is a great man, too," he continued,
thoughtfully, "but one whose views of policy and ambition have, I
cannot but think, too wide a range--Do not mention it, on any
account."
"I will put the king upon his guard, at all events," said John Ramsay,
thinking himself very politic in giving no definite answer as to what
he would tell and what he would withhold, while he was in reality
meditating the very course on which his cousin sought to guide him.
"It is frightful to think what might be the result if this young man
had the ambition and the daring of his ancestors. Why, the king's life
itself----"
"No, no!" cried Andrew Ramsay, interrupting him, "I do not think he
would venture such an act as that. The worst I do believe he would
attempt, might be to seize his majesty's person, and send him prisoner
to England, like his mother."
"He should feel my dagger first," answered the young man with whom he
spoke; "but I do not know, Andrew, how far these men's ambition may
go. You cannot tell what has been taking place at our own court. If
Gowrie is aspiring in one way, his brother Alexander is not less so in
another. I will tell you what, Andrew," he continued: "there was a
time last autumn when the king hurried away from his cabinet with
Herries and John Hume, and took his road, as fast as he could go,
towards the rooms where Alex Ruthven is lodged. I know not upon what
information he acted; but I followed him to the foot of the stairs,
and when I heard that the door above was bolted, and the king shook it
till it was like to come down, I thought, Andrew----" he continued,
dropping his voice, and pressing his hand tight upon his cousin's arm,
"I thought that the next sound I should hear would be the death cry of
a Ruthven."
"No bad noise," said Andrew Ramsay, drily; "but you told me something
of your suspicions by letter, John. How has this matter gone on
since?"
"From bad to worse," answered the young man. "He went away for a
while, and then returned; and since then he has been more daring than
ever."
The conversation thus proceeded for about half an hour longer, when
the clock struck one, and John Ramsay rose, saying, "Well, I will away
to bed; but we shall meet to-morrow, before I depart for Edinburgh."
"If you go to-morrow I will ride with you," answered his cousin, "for
I am bound thither too. We can talk farther by the way."
"So be it, then," answered John Ramsay; and with a few more words, to
arrange their plans, they parted for the night, the younger man to
sleep, after a short space given to agitated thought, the elder to
meditate somewhat scornfully, though well pleased, upon the easy tool
which passion renders the most impetuous and unruly, when duly and
skilfully directed.