"
"They do, my Fleming," said the Queen; "but is it well or kind in you
to call them back?--God knows, they have kept the perch this night but
too closely--Come, I will recall the gay vision, were it but to punish
them. Yes, at that blithesome bridal, Mary herself shall forget the
weight of sorrows, and the toil of state, and herself once more lead a
measure.--At whose wedding was it that we last danced, my Fleming? I
think care has troubled my memory--yet something of it I should
remember--canst thou not aid me?--I know thou canst."
"Alas! madam," replied the lady----
"What!" said Mary, "wilt thou not help us so far? this is a peevish
adherence to thine own graver opinion, which holds our talk as folly.
But thou art court-bred, and wilt well understand me when I say, the
Queen _commands_ Lady Fleming to tell her where she led the last
_branle_."
With a face deadly pale, and a mien as if she were about to sink into
the earth, the court-bred dame, no longer daring to refuse obedience,
faltered out--"Gracious Lady--if my memory err not--it was at a masque
in Holyrood--at the marriage of Sebastian."
The unhappy Queen, who had hitherto listened with a melancholy smile,
provoked by the reluctance with which the Lady Fleming brought out her
story, at this ill-fated word interrupted her with a shriek so wild
and loud that the vaulted apartment rang, and both Roland and
Catherine sprang to their feet in the utmost terror and alarm.
Meantime, Mary seemed, by the train of horrible ideas thus suddenly
excited, surprised not only beyond self-command, but for the moment
beyond the verge of reason.
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