ce was the struggle, but it ended as a fight so unequal was
bound to end. John of Park was slain, refusing with his dying breath to
surrender, and Konrad was carried, a half-senseless captive to
Bothwell's castle of Hermitage. Even then the earl spared his life. He
lay in a hideous den, in pitch darkness and dead silence broken only by
the splash of drops of fetid water that fell from the slimy arch of the
vault.

No token reached him of what was happening above; and an event happened
there that had vast influence on Bothwell's future. Across the hills to
Hermitage rode the Queen of Scots herself. The sight of her stirred in
Bothwell's heart an emotion he had never wholly conquered, for she, Mary
herself, was his first love of the bygone days in France. He had begun
to realise that he loved her still; he knew the coldness of her
relations with the dissolute and unfaithful Darnley, her husband; now
she had come to Hermitage.

"Jesu Maria!" cried the queen, as Bothwell, with beating heart, paused
in the conversation. "Have you lost your tongue?"

"Nay, madame--my heart."

"That is very serious; but search for another."

"I want no other," replied the earl, in a trembling voice, "but
_thine_!"

"Lord Bothwell," she said, with a hauteur that froze her admirer, "thou
art in a dream."

"Pardon me, I pray you--"

"I do pardon thee," replied the queen, with a calm smile; but added,
significantly, "I think 'tis time I was riding from Hermitage."

So ended the famous visit to Hermitage, which was interpreted throughout
Scotland as a token of Mary's love for her favourite earl.

Konrad, a month afterwards, was sent to Edinburgh and confined in the
old tower of Holyrood, awaiting trial as a Border outlaw. Bothwell
himself soon followed, and celebrated his return by a wild revel in
company with Hob of Ormiston and other choice spirits.

As the revellers wandered through the narrow streets at midnight,
seeking a quarrel, they passed the house of Dame Alison Craig.

"My page tells me," said Bothwell, "there is a famous foreign beauty
concealed there. Ho! within!"

A stoup of water, poured on them from an upper window, was the answer.
They broke open the door, and forced the shrieking dame to lead them to
the apartment where the foreign beauty was hidden.

"Death and confusion!" muttered the earl when he saw who was within.

"Cock and pie!" said Ormiston. "We have started the wrong game."

Hastily they thrust back t