"Love!" reiterated the chancellor, scornfully, "nay, I think but of _death_," he added in a voice so stern and hollow that the soldier started, "but ere long you may, nay you _shall_ know all I mean. Till then, God be wi' you--adieu." And with his hands behind his back, and his eyes bent thoughtfully on the ground, Crichton slowly followed the regent into David's Tower, while the Captain of the Guard, bewildered by their strange remarks, hurried to join his hundred pikemen, who were drawn up in two ranks at the gateway which opened under the Constable's tower. Sir John Romanno of that ilk, who commanded the fortress, had now all the king's garrison at their posts, with bills and crossbows, and the cannoneers by their guns, with lintstocks lighted. CHAPTER X. FOREBODINGS. She was mounted on a milk-white steed, And he on a dapple grey; And a bugle-horn hung by his side, When he lightly rode away. Lord William looked over his right shoulder, To see what he could see; And lo her seven bauld brethren Came riding owre the lee. THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDIE. "How often is a straw, wafted by the wind, the turning point in our destiny!" says an author; "a stone cast into the water causes a ripple on the most distant shore; so the most trivial event of our lives, after a thousand ramifications, leads on to some great climax." When the train of Douglas mounted in the court-yard of the abbot's house, Sir Malcolm Fleming of Cumbernauld came hastily from his chamber, clad in complete mail, with his helmet open; thus it revealed the pallor of his face, with the sombre gloom of his dark grey eyes, whose restless and wandering expression bore evidence of a sleepless night. "How now, Cumbernauld," said the earl of Abercorn, "is this thy dinner-dress--art going to dine with all this old iron about thee?" "Yes--when I dine with enemies." "Soho, man--go to! we have no enemies," said the sneering noble; "we are all friends now, and must drink to-night to the extinction of all feuds." "Do the countess and Lady Murielle go to this banquet?" asked the old knight, with a voice rendered husky by sorrow and surprise, as Margaret and the ladies of her train came forth with all their gorgeous dresses glittering in the sunshine. "Of a surety they do. James Achanna bore them each a special message from the Lord Regent in the young King's name; but what in the name of old Mahoun ails thee, Sir Malcolm Fleming--art ill?" "Ill indeed at heart, lord earl." "And wherefore?" asked Earl James, angrily.