The bright wines of Rochelle and Bordeaux sparkled as they were poured from great Flemish jugs into the elaborately chased silver maizers, from which the Earl and his friends were drinking—and drinking, as we have said, deeply; Bolton, to drown the memory of a deed that was likely to drive him distracted; Bothwell, to obtain nerve for whatever might ensue; and Hob Ormiston, to please himself, and keep them company. After a pause—
"Courage, brave Bothwell!" he exclaimed, striking the Earl on the shoulder; "for thou seemest the chosen son of the fickle little goddess."
"Fortune has been smiling on me of late; but, as I have told thee, I begin to scorn her favour since the rejection of my suit by Mary."
"All coy reluctance. By St. Anthony’s pig! were I thou"——
"Nay, Nay! Mary is above acting so childishly. But wert thou me, what then?"
"By cock and pie! I would make her mine ere the sun rises from the sea to-morrow."
"Peace!" said the Earl, through whose heart there thrilled a fierce and sudden joy as Ormiston spoke.
"Take courage; for the same day that sees thee Duke of Orkney and Regent of Scotland, beholds me Earl of Ormiston and Marquis of Teviotdale; and by Tantony’s bell and bones, and pig to boot, the sooner the better say I, for every rood of my barony, main and milne, holm and haugh, are mortgaged to the chin among the rascally notaries and usurers of Edinburgh, whom the devil confound! What sayest thou, Bolton? Sorrow take him! he is drunk and asleep. Poor fool! he hath never been himself since that night. Hearken," continued this ruffian, approaching the Earl, whom it was his interest to urge yet further on that desperate course in which they had embarked together; "doth not the queen and her sister, the Lady Argyle, sleep in the chambers of the Agnes tower?"
"Yes; so sayeth Sandy of Whitelaw, my seneschal. The queen is in the vaulted chamber on the first floor; Jane of Argyle above."
"Well!" said Ormiston, fixing his keen dark eyes on those of the Earl.
"It is folly to pause midway in the career of ambition; and it lies with thyself to make this woman thine; for what is she but a pretty woman after all? It lieth with thyself, I say, to make her thine, to end her scruples, and to close for ever the web thou hast woven around her."