On emerging from the tunnel gateway the stranger is confronted by the great imposing gable of the Parliament House. This building, although altered and much defaced, is still a majestic pile, and is noteworthy as having almost certainly been erected under the directorship of Cochrane, the architect, one of James III.’s unpopular favourites. Poor Cochrane was hanged at Lauder Bridge on the famous occasion when the Earl of Angus thought fit to “Bell the Cat,” and show the King that Scottish nobles would not suffer art-loving upstarts to usurp the high places at Court. The quaint, twisted entrance below the old Mint, to the north of the Parliament House, was the way of approach to the castle up till the following reign, so that often in his later years, when James III. rode into his courtyard, he must have shuddered as he caught sight of the building that reminded him of Cochrane and his miserable fate. [Illustration: OLD ENTRANCE FROM BALLENGEICH.] The Palace, which is chief among Stirling Castle’s buildings, can be viewed on one of its three elaborate sides from this same spot near James IV.’s gateway. Often must King James V. have walked about this ground while the walls of his stately house were rising, and many a day he doubtless stood watching the workmen shaping the pillars and carving the curious figures. Out of these windows, before they were barred, have looked Mary of Guise and the Regent Arran, and unhappy Queen Mary has lain within these walls weeping sorely at the hardness of her lot. Then came the time when the infant Prince James was brought for his safety to Stirling, the stronghold that was to become his home throughout his boyhood’s years. Yet, in the turmoil of politics and religion, the royal child’s anxious guardians felt that the strong position of the castle was not sufficient protection for their precious charge. Consequently, the windows on the main floor of the Palace were grated with heavy iron bars--the work, it is said, of a St. Ninian’s blacksmith--which yet remain firmly fixed in their stones to remind the peace-loving generations of the perilous days of the past. Many a night has James VI. lain sleepless behind these gratings, dreading lest by the morning light he should be carried a prisoner to Edinburgh or Dumbarton.