"Well now, man, well," cried James, shuffling himself impatiently to the other side of his chair, "what's the matter now, that you must disturb us when in deep consultation on matters of importance? What, is this all?" he continued, taking up a letter which Seymour placed before him. "The lassie's epistle might well have waited for a more convenient season. We will criticise it at our leisure. Her style is not amiss, and deserves correction. You may go, sir; but you must learn not to intrude with trifles upon a King who has more serious matters to think of." "The lady informed me, sire," replied Seymour, "that the letter was of the utmost consequence. She bade me promise to deliver it into your Majesty's own hand, and not to lose a moment till I did so." "That's the way with all these women," said James, throwing down the letter upon the table; "they think that the merest trifle about them--a pair of gloves, or a pot of perfume--is as much as the safety of a kingdom, or a fundamental point of doctrine." "The Lady Arabella Stuart said, sire," answered Seymour, taking a step towards the door, "that the letter concerned your Majesty's safety, and the welfare of the state." "Ha!--what? What's that ye say, sir!" exclaimed the King, snatching up the letter again, with a nervous twitching of the face. "Our immediate safety? Stay, man, stay," and he opened the letter in haste. "Odds life!" he cried, when he had read it, and before he had opened the enclosure, "she's a good lassie, and has a tender regard for our sacred person, with all due humility on her part. Read what she says, my Lord, while we peruse the enclosed." Cecil took the letter from the King's hand, and examined the contents attentively, but with his usual cool and impenetrable look, showing not the slightest emotion of any kind. In the meanwhile, the King read through from beginning to end the letter from Lord Cobham which Arabella had enclosed, without making any remark till he came to the conclusion, when he said, "Just so, just so; this is full confirmation." "Perhaps, sire, Mr. Seymour had better retire for a little," observed Cecil. "No need, man, no need," replied James; "he's a discreet young man, and will not divulge the King's counsel. What think ye of this affair, my Lord?" "The lady seems to treat it very lightly, sire," replied his councillor; "she evidently looks upon the whole matter as a scurvy jest."