"How?" "Hearken," said Crichton, placing a hand on the arm of Gray. "Say on," said the latter impatiently. "In two years from this, the king will take upon himself the government of the nation, and I shall retire me to my old castle of Crichton, in the Glen of Tync, beyond the Esk, and spend there my latter days in peace." "The government--in 1444--this boy?" "The boy will then be fifteen, and he is a manly boy withal. The time is coming when he must be contracted to a foreign princess, and, through the lord of Campvere, Duke Arnold of Gueldreland has made overtures on the part of his daughter Mary, now in her ninth year. To these overtures the regent and myself, with the consent of the lords of council, have thought it meet to respond, and you shall bear our missives to the duke, who is now either in Gueldreland, in Brabant, or Burgundy, I know not which; and in due time I, with a fitting train, will set out for his capital. But promise me to be secret as you are faithful in this matter, and remember it is in the service of _the king_." "In this embassy I promise to do all that may become a loyal man--save wed the Lady Mary of Gueldres herself; for, after all you have proposed, by the mass! I knew not where your generosity might end." "Good!" replied Crichton. "To-night I ride for Stirling, to see the regent and Queen Jane; when I return, you shall have your sealed letters of credence, and Dirltoun the treasurer shall pave the way with gold." The chancellor shook his hand with kindness, and retired, leaving the frank and single-hearted soldier to consider the journey before him; the yet greater separation by land, water, and time, it would make between himself and Murielle, and also to surmise whether the proposal merely veiled some deeper and more distant object; for, since that fatal 24th of November, Gray had ever a doubt of the regent, the chancellor, and their projects. "He overshot the butt--his cunning hath outdone itself," muttered Gray. "Did he not think a ward of the crown would content the king's poor soldier for a bride? but a princess--ha! ha!" And he uttered a merry but scornful laugh. As the twilight deepened, and the shores of the Forth blended in the distance with its darkening waters, he thought over all that had passed; but was not left long to his own reflections, for a grey-bearded pikeman of his guard drew back the moth-eaten arras, and announced his kinsman, Sir Thomas MacLellan, of Bombie. CHAPTER XXI. GRAY'S DEPARTURE. Awake, awake! lover, I bring, I bring Most gladsome news, that blissful are and sure Of thy comfort; now laugh, and play, and sing. Full soon thou shalt achieve thine adventure, For in the heaven decretit is thy cure. REMAINS OF JAMES I. OF SCOTLAND. "Welcome, my good and merry friend!" exclaimed Gray, starting forward to greet him;--"lights, wine, and a jolly greybeard of usquebaugh," he added to his servant;--"and you have returned."