The next morning, November 25, 1542, the king returned to Edinburgh. He could hardly conceal his disgrace in his splendid palace; and there a new disgrace was reported to him which still further heightened his grief. On November 14, two envoys from the duke of Norfolk had arrived there with a letter addressed to the king. The cardinal had replied that he was gone a-hunting in Fifeshire. Ten days later, on the fatal day of Solway, towards evening, when the English envoys on their return were approaching Dunbar, one of them, J. Ponds, Somerset herald, was attacked by two men and assassinated. James, when he heard of this on his return, was in consternation. It might seriously aggravate the crisis which was already so alarming. Notwithstanding the painful state in which he then was, he wrote immediately to his uncle: ‘Be assured that punishment shall thereafter follow according to the quality of the crime, and that there is no prince now living who could be more afflicted than we are that such an odious crime should remain unpunished.’ He offered to send ambassadors and heralds to explain the criminal deed.[263] That was probably the last letter written by the king. James had a painful interview with the cardinal, who might now understand to what a condition his hatred of the Reformation and his ambition had reduced the king and the realm. James, who believed himself pursued by a fatal destiny, took account sorrowfully, when left alone, of his treasures and his jewels; and then, full of shame and melancholy, and afraid to show himself to anyone whomsoever in his capital, set out secretly for Fifeshire. He stopped at Hallyards, where he was warmly received by the lady of Grange, a respectable and pious woman, whose husband was absent at the time. This Christian woman, observing at supper that the prince was plunged in melancholy, sought to comfort him, and exhorted him to bow with resignation to the will of God. ‘My portion of this world is short,’ sorrowfully answered James; ‘in fifteen days I shall be with you no more.’ Some time afterwards one of the officers of his court having said to him, ‘Sire, Christmas is nigh; where will your majesty wish to celebrate that festival?’ James replied with a scornful smile, ‘I cannot tell: choose ye the place. But this I can tell you, on Yule day ye will be masterless, and the realm without a king.’ [Sidenote: LAST HOURS OF JAMES V.]