A never-failing source of sorrow to Mary was the knowledge that her son, whom she had seen for the last time an infant, scarcely twelve months old, at Stirling, was in charge of those who had contrived her own overthrow, and was under the tutorship of the venal and ungrateful Buchanan. The burden of her captivity would have been immeasurably lightened, could she have been assured that he had learned to love her and feel for her misfortunes. But the young James, whatever may have been his desire, was in the hands of her enemies, and could communicate with his mother only in the manner and through the means that they were pleased to specify. Nevertheless, as he grew older he had ample opportunity of learning the real character of the men who had dethroned her, and would, it must be presumed, have done what he could to procure her release, did not the promptings of human interest run counter to the dictates of natural love. He was not of that stuff of which heroes are made. The bravery and chivalry for which his forefathers had long been distinguished, found no abode in his bosom. A sound skin and the prospect of succeeding to the English throne weighed more with him than the thought of adopting a firm and uncompromising policy in defence of his mother. While the projects of Mary’s friends on the Continent gave promise of being carried to a successful issue, he was not averse to plotting with the Guises and seeking the aid of the Pope in behalf of his "dearest and most honoured lady mother"; but when these projects came to naught, he was found closely allied to the winning cause. Later on, it is true, when Mary was declared a party to a conspiracy against the life of Elizabeth, and her execution was imminent, he dispatched Ambassadors to the English Court to intercede for her life; and when at last the fatal blow was struck, he gave vent to angry feelings and expressed a desire of revenge. A large number of the Scottish nobility were anxious to avert by armed force the contemplated insult to their nation, and to secure Scotland against a humiliation such as their ancestors would never have tolerated. But a cowardly King and a divided nobility were not the forces which, in earlier days, had awakened terror in the heart of England. Elizabeth and her advisers know this, and were well aware that the fear of never reaching the goal of his ambition--the united thrones of England and Scotland--would curb within harmless limits the half-hearted anger of the selfish James. CHAPTER X. ELIZABETH UNMOVED BY HER CAPTIVE’S APPEALS.