It was a gay sight in the town of Edinburgh, as, on the morning of the twenty-third of March, all the principal nobles of the land rode, gallantly attended, to the council for which the king's summons had gone forth, and many were the persons assembled to see them pass. No great joy or satisfaction, however, shone upon the countenances of the good citizens of Edinburgh, for the rumour already had spread through the city that a new tax was in contemplation to support the extravagance of the king, and to enrich the minions of the court. Never was a greater mistake made than that which is attributed to David Rizzio, who is said to have expressed an opinion, when warned by Sir James Melville of the peril which menaced him, that the bark of the Scotch people was worse than their bite. On the contrary, history proves that the bite, and that a sharp one, came frequently before the bark. On the present occasion, there were no loud expressions of popular feeling, except perhaps, when one of those barons in whom the people had confidence happened to pass; but a dull and menacing sort of gloom hung over the crowd, and whatever they thought, it was expressed in low tones to each other. Gowrie was one of the first on the way, and a shout greeted him when he approached the crowd assembled near the palace gates, for there the council was held; but the noise soon died away, and he was riding on, when a half-witted man ran out from amongst the rest, and laid his hand upon the earl's rein, saying, "Don't you vote for the tax, Gowrie! Don't you vote for the oppression of the people. We poor folk can hardly bear it." Gowrie said some kind but unmeaning words to the poor man, and passed quietly on his way, arriving at the gates a few minutes before the appointed hour. At the door he was met by the king's porter, who informed him that his majesty had not yet left his apartments; and with a slow step and very thoughtful countenance, the young earl was walking across to the foot of the staircase, when young John Ramsay came hastily forward from the fireplace, by which he was standing, and accosted him, saying, "My lord the earl, I wish to speak to you." "Ah, Ramsay!" said Gowrie, turning round, and holding out his hand, "I did not see you!" The young man, however, drew a little back, and replied with a haughty and somewhat overbearing air, "There are some matters to be settled first, my lord, before I know whether we are friends or enemies." "It may be just as you please, sir," answered Gowrie calmly, gazing at him with some surprise; "what is the matter?" "I understand, my lord," replied the young man, "that one of your servants has murdered, in Perth, my brother's man, Walter Matthison--a person whom I protected."