The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

II.--Bothwell Castle

"I have resolved!" exclaimed the earl, on the morning after their arrival at Noltland. "I would be worse than mad to forego the prospect of power by marring my union with the sister of Huntly."

"Cock and pie! now thou speakest like a man of mettle!" growled Hob.

"Anna is not my first love," mused the earl. "Have I not felt how feeble have been my sentiments for Anna, for Jane of Huntly, for all who have succeeded her whom I met in France long ago?"

"Then thou wilt sail----"

"Yes, like Æneas, leaving my Dido behind me."

With a pretence of the love he felt no longer, Bothwell bade Anna farewell, and left her to doubts which, as the months went on and his promise to return was not fulfilled, gradually rose to despair.

During the decline of a spring evening, as Anna wandered dejectedly on the battlements, Konrad stood before her for the first time since her arrival at Noltland.

"Konrad," she faltered, "thou here!"

"Anna--dear Anna!" exclaimed the unhappy young man. "I have tidings to tell thee. The false lord of Bothwell hath been espoused to the sister of Huntly!"

"And I--" gasped Anna.

"Thou art a captive for life in this island castle!"

Anna would have fallen backwards had Konrad not sprung to her assistance.

"Listen," he said, in a low voice. "If thou wouldst escape, an hour will set thee free."

"Yes, land me once in Scotland, and I will make my way to Bothwell."

That night Anna was on a Norwegian vessel bound for Glasgow, and Konrad was with her. She could not, he knew, be his bride, but he could at least protect and cherish her, and strive to redress the wrongs she had suffered.

A storm was gathering above the lovely valley of the Clyde one June evening as two strangers--a man and a woman--plodded wearily towards Bothwell Castle. The woman became wholly exhausted; the man laid her gently down in shelter among the ruins of Blantyre Priory, and went on his errand alone. The storm had now burst, and the river was rising rapidly; but Konrad--for it was he--plunged into the raging waters, and strove to swim across. The current was too strong for him; he clung to an ash tree that projected over the stream, and was nearly exhausted when a man on the bank flung down his mantle and poniard, plunged in, and dragged him to the shore.

Konrad, almost senseless, was carried within the castle. When he had revived and was dressed in dry garments, he was brought before his rescuer--it was Bothwell himself.

"I thank thee," said Konrad proudly, "for saving my life."

"Thou didst save mine. We are now equal," replied the earl.

"'Tis well! I would not be thy debtor for all the silver in the mines of Bergen! Lord of Bothwell, I tell thee in thine own hall that thou art a dishonoured villain!"

"Thou art stark mad!" cried the earl. Then he went on, "Konrad, I have wronged thee deeply. In my youth I loved one who neglected me as cruelly as thou hast been neglected, and since then a mischievous spirit of vengeance, as it were, has led me to make women my playthings, to be won and thrown aside. I love thy spirit, Konrad. If I could be thy friend----"

"Never!" cried Konrad. "I come not for friendship, but for justice to Anna! Hast thou not wedded another after thine espousal of her?"

"Dost thou deem the mock blessing of yon mad hermit a spousal rite?" exclaimed the earl, laughing.

Konrad repressed his passion.

"I go to push my fortune with your turbulent border chiefs; and if, in the strife that will soon convulse this land, thou meetest Konrad of Salzberg, look well to thyself!"

"Go thy way, and God be with thee!" replied the earl. "Thou art the first who hath bent a dark brow on a lord of Bothwell under his own roof-tree."

Konrad returned to Anna, and in the ruined priory told her how Bothwell was false to her. Anna's grief was dreadful to behold.

"Anna," said Konrad, after a pause, "Scotland hath a queen whose goodness of heart is revered in every land save her own."

"True; and at her feet will I pour forth my sorrow and my tears together."

So the two traversed the thickets around the priory, and reached the broad highway, which was to lead them at length to Edinburgh.

III.--Mary Queen of Scots

But it was long ere Anna looked upon the face of the queen. At the Red Lion Inn in Edinburgh her beauty struck the eye of the Earl of Morton, the factious, proud, and ferocious associate of Moray in all the dark intrigues of that craftiest of Scottish statesmen. Morton promised that Anna should be entrusted to a lady of fair repute, and soon presented to the queen. Konrad trusted him, little knowing that the repute of Dame Alison Craig, Anna's new guardian, was anything but fair, and set forth for the Border.

It was to Sir John Elliot of Park that he offered the service of his sword, for it was against this turbulent borderer, who had just raided Northumberland, and threatened the peace of the two kingdoms, that Bothwell was advancing with the army of Queen Mary. Now garrisoning some solitary peel-tower, now hiding in some unfathomed cavern, now issuing with uplifted lance from the haggs of some deep moss, Konrad engaged with ardour in every desperate foray, and his daring made him the idol of the wild spirits around him. In every deed of arms one thought was in his mind--to come within a lance-length of Bothwell.