learned that the steward and herself were the only persons de ceived; and that the material he had used was harmless, and its apparent effects were feigned. The Lady had also to listen to a wild prophecy from the excited old woman, proclaiming Mary's speedy release, not only from enthralment there, but anywhere in Scotland. The steward was then sent from the castle, on an odd mission, that related to treatment for his deserts, for which he did not go far. At a "change house, as it was termed, not very distant from a romantic dell, well known by the name of Keirie Craigs," he was killed in an altercation with Henry Seyton, brother of Catherine. While dying, he confessed his attempt at poisoning to George Douglas (the son of the Lady), who appeared there. "I failed in my attempt to take away that Moabitish stumblingblock and her retinue," he said. "I did chiefly purpose for love of thee." "Hast thou not, despite the honor thou owest to thy parents, the faith that is due to thy religion, the truth that is due to thy King, been so carried away by the charms of this beautiful sorceress, that thou wouldst have helped her to escape from her prison-house, and lent her thine arm again to ascend the throne, which she had made a place of abomination?" The steward de clared that he had acted only to save a Douglas, believing that he was doing righteous service against a Papist enemy of Scotland, and one bewitching, to ruin, the heir of the house he served. The Queen, indeed, with that fascination she always possessed, and could exercise most powerfully, had gained entire control over the susceptible son of her vigilant guardian, and even permitted him to indulge the most delightful and ambitious hopes in connection with herself; and thus she had farther gained an important assistant towards her escape, whose aid might be rendered available at the very place and time where then much needed. For, as she told Roland, her plans of escape were "indifferent well laid" on the mainland; but the difficulty, in accomplishing them, was that of passing the castle locks, and of reaching the land. To obviate this difficulty, young Douglas might be used; and to assist in removing it, Roland, devotedly attached to the Queen, used his greatest ingenuity. And thus he performed his part in that glorious design, and almost holy cause, to which his aged grandmother had introduced him, and which the Queen and her adherents strove to consummate at the earliest practicable time. Already, Mary corre -- sponded, or telegraphed by means of lights, with the inmates of the hut at Kinross that Roland had visited, a secret business he was allowed to learn. Meanwhile, he practised an art with which he had become acquainted at Avenel Castle, and, by use of an otherwise deserted forge in the cellar beneath the royal rooms, fashioned a bundle of keys to closely resemble that carried by Lady Douglas, and mastering the important locks of her prison. A farther development of the design was effected by introduction into the castle of a man-at-arms who was recommended to the Lady by her son. This man was engaged as a guard by her, after she had examined him, and learned from him that he was Edward Glendinning, nearly related to the Knight of Avenel, -a well-known, earnest Protestant. The Lady did not, however, quite comprehend then, that, although he was so nearly related to the knight as to be his brother, he had very different politics and religion, and was no other than the Abbot of Kennaquhair, disguised and serving his sovereign. At length an eventful night came, that for trial of meditated and elaborated plans of escape. The new military retainer was posted sentinel. Two lights in the cottage informed that all was ready on the mainland. The Lady, as had been her custom since the steward's attempt at poisoning, came to Mary's apartment to taste the dishes provided for the Queen's supper. Just then, leaving her keys a moment upon the table, and being skilfully thrown off her guard, she "forgot her charge for one second; and in that second were lost the whole fruits of her former vigilance:" during it, Roland substituted his forged keys for hers, that were genuine. Awaiting "the dead hour of midnight, when all was silent in the castle," he began the final act of the Queen's escape. He first opened a postern door to a little external garden, exchanged a word with the disguised abbot, and learned that a boat was ready, close under the walls. The guard upon the tower, who had received proper attention, had drunk deeply of ale, and was asleep. Immediately the queen and her maid of honor, Catherine, and another person, and the disguised abbot, were stealthily embarked in this boat, commanded by Henry Seyton. During a moment's delay, Roland locked gate and wicket behind the escaping party, and then away the boatman pulled. But the dash of their oars aroused the sentinel on the tower, who at once sounded an alarm. Thanks, however, to Roland for his precaution, doors of oak and bolts of iron kept the garrison within close bounds, from which, although harque buss balls rained around the fugitives, the Queen went safe, shielded by the body of George Douglas interposed between them and her person. Soon, however, the boat and those within it were securely at land. Mr. Mackie tells us that "A spot called Mary's Knowe, upon the shore of the lake of Loch Leven, is still pointed out as the place at which the Queen, young Douglas, and a female attendant landed on the night of the escape." At the shore a dozen horses were ready. "The Queen and her ladies, with all" others who came from the boat, were instantly mounted. "Holding aloof from the village, that was already alarmed by the firing from the castle, with Douglas acting as their guide, they soon reached the open ground, and began to ride as fast as was consistent with keeping together in good order." "Long before daybreak they ended their hasty and perilous journey before the gates of Niddrie, a castle in West Lothian, belonging to Lord Seyton." The proposed route of this tour towards Edinburgh leads, less directly, from Kinross to the same place, by way of Dunfermline (with its noble abbey) and Stirling (with its many attractions already described). Niddrie, now ruinous, is accessible from the road between the latter and Edinburgh, from which it is distant about a dozen miles. It stands near the railway, whence the passing traveller may have a glance at its great, grim tower. The restless fate that seemed always to control Queen Mary, only permitted her to remain there long enough to greet some assembled loyal subjects, and briefly time for Magdalen Græme to appear and declare Roland Græme true heir of Avenel. The Queen, on the morning after her arrival, departed for the strong castle of Dumbarton, a castle well known, to those who pass along the lower Clyde, for its mighty rock and commanding outlook. But the opposing Regent, Murray, was already in the field to meet her; and, from a spot called "the Court Knowe" (about three miles south of Glasgow), it is said, Mary beheld, on the 13th of May, 1568, the battle of Langside, that decided her history, and finally deprived her of her crown. This field is about two miles south-west of Glasgow. South-easterly of the field, near Cathcart Castle, is, or was, an upright stone, bearing a carved crown and the inscription, "M. R. 1568,” marking the Queen's position, that overlooks the field sloping to a considerable distance below it. There are remains of a small Roman camp in the neighborhood, sometimes, though erroneously, called "Queen Mary's camp." Scott represents that she viewed the battle from Crooks - ton Castle (where it is popularly asserted she was betrothed to Lord Darnley, and lived some days after her marriage with him); but such a position may be thought to involve some topographical uncertainty, and Scott himself sufficiently explains this by notes. Both Henry Seyton and George Douglas perished on that unhappy day. The queen was obliged to flee southward. Local tradition asserts that in a lane, near Langside, called Din's Dikes, two haymakers threatened to kill her with their scythes if she did not surrender, but she escaped them. Her first halt was at the Abbey of Dundrennan, upon the southwest coast of Scotland, and nearly sixty miles distant from the field of battle. In that remote quarter of Galloway, the Reformation had not yet been strictly enforced against the monks; and a few still lingered in their cells unmolested. Their prior, with tears and reverence, received the fugitive Queen. The interesting remains of this abbey, situated in the "Guy Mannering" country, can be visited when the scenes of that story are explored, and can be found described at the beginning of chapter xx. At Dundrennan, Mary, Queen of Scots, made the fatal decision to leave her own land, with its captivities and defeats and trials, behind her, and to commit herself to Elizabeth of England. Thence she departed for ever from her kingdom. And long her dismissed followers thence watched her going; "and long, long could they discern the kerchief of Mary, as she waved the oft-repeated signal of adieu to her faithful adherents and to the shores of Scotland." Happier times ensued for Roland — become Roland Avenel and for Catherine Seyton. He, at length lawful heir of an ancient house, and she, a free maiden, grown to know each other well through strangely romantic trials, were united as true lovers should be. Thus, romances of Scott are supposed to have led successively through south-western, western, far northern, and eastern central parts of Scotland, to its capital, where are found many places of interest associated both with his life and with portions of several of his works, and especially with the most important scenes of one of his most celebrated and charming novels, sketched in the thirtieth chapter. XXIX. SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. "MINE own romantic town," "Edina, Scotia's darling seat," "Queen of the North," exclaimed the poet, with enthusiasm that may well be inspired by view of this noble and beautiful city, to which this tour is supposed to conduct us now, and in which we may pleasantly make many explorations. While these are made, we may find ourselves assisted by having in mind a more complete sketch of Edinburgh than that given in the Introduction (page 14). Accordingly, even at risk of describing what may be very familiar, a mental view of the city may be traced here. On the southern shore of the Frith of Forth, and about two miles from its broad waters, is a narrow and not very deep ravine, extending nearly east and west, formerly called the "North Loch," and now traversed by a railway, the station of which is about midway in it. Above this ravine, on the south side, abruptly rises a rocky ridge, the crest of which gradually ascends from low land eastward, about a mile, until it attains an elevation of 445 feet above sea-level, and abruptly terminates in precipitous crags of trap-rock. On this ridge is built the Old Town, ancient, lofty, crowded, smoky, with tall, dark stone houses, the Victoria spire, the crowned tower of St. Giles, and, chiefest of all, at the highest point westward, the great and famous Castle. At the end and base of the ridge, eastward, and in a rather wide and low vale, is Holyrood, with its square palace and turreted angles, and its ruined abbey. Almost north of it is Calton Hill, an irregular eminence, with steep, rocky, or grassy surfaces, reaching a height of 344 feet, crowned with monuments, and girdled with castellated or modern classic buildings. From this hill, the wide and imposing Princes Street, one of the noblest in Europe, extends westward, bounding the northern side of the ravine already described, and presenting towards it a long array of often elegant modern houses and shops, - the front of the New Town, that stretches northward from it over comparatively level ground. Gardens or public buildings line the southern side of the street, and partly occupy the ravine. Out of these, most conspicuous and beautiful of all objects, rises two hundred feet an elaborate brownstone Gothic spire, in the style of a mediæval cross, and noblest |