"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?"