Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall Part 49

John spoke a few words to Sir William, and in a moment they both went back to the castle.

In a short time the gates were opened, and the Rutland coach drawn by four horses emerged from the castle grounds. Sir William then directed Mary and Dorothy to enter the coach and requested me to ride with them to Haddon Hall.

The yeoman guards were in marching order, and I took my seat in the coach.

The fates surely were in a humorous mood when they threw Dorothy, Queen Mary, and myself together. Pause for a moment and consider the situation.

You know all the facts and you can a.n.a.lyze it as well as I. I could not help laughing at the fantastic trick of destiny.

Soon after I entered the coach Sir William gave the word, and the yeomen with Lord Rutland and John moved forward on the road to Haddon.

The coach at once followed the guard and a score of yeomen followed us.

Queen Mary occupied the back seat of the coach, and Dorothy and I sat upon the front seat facing her.

Dorothy was exhausted, and her head lay upon my shoulder. Now and again she would softly moan and sob, but she said nothing. After a few minutes of silence Queen Mary spoke:--

"Why did you betray me, you miserable wretch? Why did you betray me?"

Dorothy did not answer. Mary continued:--

"Have I ever injured you in any manner? Have I ever harmed you by thought, word, or deed?"

Dorothy's only answer was a sob.

"Perhaps you are a canting fanatic, and it may be that you hate me for the sake of that which you call the love of G.o.d?"

"No, no, madam," I said, "that was not the reason."

"Do you know the reason, Malcolm?" asked Mary, addressing me for the first time. My name upon her lips had a strange effect on me. It was like the wafting to my nostrils of a sweet forgotten odor, or the falling upon my ears of a tender refrain of bygone days. Her voice in uttering my name thrilled me, and I hated myself for my weakness.

I told Mary that I did not know Dorothy's reasons, and she continued:--

"Malcolm, you were not a party to my betrayal for the sake of revenging yourself on me?"

"G.o.d forbid!" I answered. "Sir John Manners will a.s.sure you of my innocence. I rode with Mistress Vernon to a cross-road within a league of Rutland, hoping thereby to a.s.sist her to give you and Sir John the alarm."

My admission soon brought me into trouble.

"I alone am to blame," said Dorothy, faintly.

"I can easily believe you," said Mary, sharply. "Did you expect to injure me?"

No answer came from Dorothy.

"If you expect to injure me," Mary continued, "you will be disappointed. I am a queen, and my Cousin Elizabeth would not dare to harm me, even though she might wish to do so. We are of the same blood, and she will not wish to do me injury. Your doting lover will probably lose his head for bringing me to England without his queen's consent. He is her subject. I am not. I wish you joy of the trouble you have brought upon him and upon yourself."

"Upon him!" cried Dorothy.

"Yes, upon him," continued Mary, relishing the torture she was inflicting.

"You will enjoy seeing him beheaded, will you not, you fool, you huzzy, you wretch? I hope his death will haunt you till the end of your days."

Poor Dorothy, leaning against me, said faintly:--

"It will--it will. You--you devil."

The girl was almost dead from exhaustion and anguish, but she would have been dead indeed had she lacked the power to strike back. I believe had it not been for Dorothy's physical weakness she would have silenced Mary with her hands.

After a little time Dorothy's heavy breathing indicated that she had fallen asleep. Her head rested upon my shoulder, and the delicious perfume of her hair and the sweet warm breath from her lips were almost intoxicating even to me, though I was not in love with her. How great must their effect have been coming upon John hot from her intense young soul!

As the link-boys pa.s.sed the coach some and some with their flambeaux I could see Dorothy's sweet pale face, almost hidden in the tangled golden red hair which fell in floods about her. The perfect oval of her cheek, the long wet lashes, the arched eyebrows, the low broad forehead, the straight nose, the saucy chin--all presented a picture of beauty and pathos sufficient to soften a heart of stone. Mary had no heart of any sort, therefore she was not moved to pity. That emotion, I am sure, she never felt from the first to the last day of her life. She continued to probe Dorothy's wound until I told her the girl was asleep. I changed Dorothy's position and placed her head against the corner cushion of the coach that she might rest more comfortably. She did not awaken when I moved her. She slept and looked like a child. For a little time after I had changed Dorothy's position Mary and I sat in silence. She was the first to speak. She leaned forward and placing her hands upon mine, whispered my name:--

"Malcolm!"

After a brief silence I said:--

"What would you, your Majesty?"

"Not 'your Majesty'" said Mary, softly, "but Mary, as of old."

She remained for a moment with her hand upon my knee, and then whispered:--

"Will you not sit by me, Malcolm?"

I believe that Mary Stuart's voice was the charm wherewith she fascinated men. I resisted to my utmost strength, but that seemed to be little more than utter weakness; so I took a seat by her side, and she gently placed her hand in mine. The warm touch of her strong, delicate fingers gave me a familiar thrill. She asked me to tell her of my wanderings since I had left Scotland, and I briefly related all my adventures. I told her of my home at Haddon Hall and of the welcome given me by my cousin, Sir George.

"Malcolm, have you forgotten?" she whispered, leaning gently against me.

"Have you forgotten our old-time vows and love? Have you forgotten all that pa.s.sed between us in the dear old chateau, when I gave to you my virgin love, fresh from my virgin heart?" I sighed and tried to harden my heart to her blandishments, for I knew she wished to use me and was tempting me to that end. She continued, "I was then only fourteen years old--ten years ago. You said that you loved me and I believed you. You could not doubt, after the proof I gave to you, that my heart was all yours. We were happy, oh, so happy. Do you remember, Malcolm?"

She brought her face close to mine while she spoke, and pressed my hand upon her breast.

My reason told me that it was but the song of the siren she was singing to my ears. My memory told me that she had been false to me twice two score times, and I knew full well she would again be false to me, or to any other man whom she could use for her purposes, and that she cared not the price at which she purchased him. Bear in mind, you who would blame me for my fall, that this woman not only was transcendently beautiful and fatally fascinating, but she was a queen and had held undisputed sway over my heart for more years than I could accurately number. As I said, added to all her beauty, she was a queen. If you have never known royalty, you cannot understand its enthralling power.

"I remember it all, madam," I replied, trying to hold myself away from her. "It is fresh to me as if it all had happened yesterday." The queen drew my arm closely to her side and nestled her cheek for an instant upon my shoulder.

"I remember also," I continued, "your marriage with Darnley when I had your promise that you would marry me; and, shame upon shame, I remember your marriage with Darnley's murderer, Bothwell."

"Cruel, cruel, Malcolm," she said. "You well know the overpowering reasons of state which impelled me to sacrifice my own happiness by marrying Darnley. I told you at the time that I hated the marriage more than I dreaded death. But I longed to quiet the factions in Scotland, and I hoped to save my poor bleeding people from the evils of war. You know I hated Darnley. You know I loved you. You knew then and you know now that you are the only man who has ever possessed my heart. You know that my words are true. You know that you, alone, have had my love since the time when I was a child."

"And Rizzio?" I asked.

"Ah, Malcolm," she answered tearfully, "I hope you, of all men, do not believe that I ever gave a thought of love to Rizzio. He was to me like my pet monkey or my favorite falcon. He was a beautiful, gentle, harmless soul. I loved him for his music. He worshipped me as did my spaniel."

Still I was determined that her blandishments should not move me.

"And Bothwell?" I asked.

"That is past endurance from you, Malcolm," she said, beginning to weep.

"You know I was brutally abducted and was forced into marriage with him.

He was an outlaw, an outcast. He was an uncouth brute whom any woman would loathe. I was in his power, and I feigned acquiescence only that I might escape and achieve vengeance upon him. Tell me, Malcolm, tell me,"

continued Mary, placing her arms about my neck and clinging to me, "tell me, you, to whom I gave my maiden's love, you who have my woman's heart, tell me, do you believe that I could willingly have married Bothwell, even though my heart had not been filled with the image of you, who are strong, gentle, and beautiful?"