“Fear not,” said the Regent, “we will take such order that no treachery shall happen.”
“Look to it then.” said Morton; “you know my mind respecting the wench you have consented she shall receive as a waiting-woman--one of a family, which, of all others, has ever been devoted to her, and inimical to us. Had we not been wary, she would have been purveyed of a page as much to her purpose as her waiting-damsel. I hear a rumour that an old mad Romish pilgrimer, who passes for at least half a saint among them, was employed to find a fit subject.”
“We have escaped that danger at least,” said Murray, “and converted it into a point of advantage, by sending this boy of Glendinning's--and for her waiting-damsel, you cannot grudge her one poor maiden instead of her four noble Marys and all their silken train?”
“I care not so much for the waiting-maiden,” said Morton, “but I cannot brook the almoner--I think priests of all persuasions are much like each other--Here is John Knox, who made such a noble puller-down, is ambitious of becoming a setter-up, and a founder of schools and colleges out of the Abbey lands, and bishops' rents, and other spoils of Rome, which the nobility of Scotland have won with their sword and bow, and with which he would endow new hives to sing the old drone.”
“John is a man of God,” said the Regent, “and his scheme is a devout imagination.”
The sedate smile with which this was spoken, left it impossible to conjecture whether the words were meant in approbation, or in derision, of the plan of the Scottish Reformer. Turning then to Roland Graeme, as if he thought he had been long enough a witness of this conversation, he bade him get him presently to horse, since my Lord of Lindesay was already mounted. The page made his reverence, and left the apartment.
Guided by Michael Wing-the-wind, he found his horse ready saddled and prepared for the journey, in front of the palace porch, where hovered about a score of men-at-arms, whose leader showed no small symptoms of surly impatience.
“Is this the jackanape page for whom we have waited thus long?” said he to Wing-the-wind.--“And my Lord Ruthven will reach the castle long before us.”
Michael assented, and added, that the boy had been detained by the Regent to receive some parting instructions. The leader made an inarticulate sound in his throat, expressive of sullen acquiescence, and calling to one of his domestic attendants, “Edward,” said he, “take the gallant into your charge, and let him speak with no one else.”