"
"There is madness among us all," said the damsel; "my father, my
brother, and you, are all alike bereft of reason. Ye should think only
of this poor Queen, and you are all inspired by your own absurd
jealousies--The monk is the only soldier and man of sense amongst you
all.--My lord Abbot," she cried aloud, "were it not better we should
draw to the westward, and wait the event that God shall send us,
instead of remaining here in the highway, endangering the Queen's
person, and cumbering the troops in their advance?"
"You say well, my daughter," replied the Abbot; "had we but one to
guide us where the Queen's person may be in safety--Our nobles hurry
to the conflict, without casting a thought on the very cause of the
war."
"Follow me," said a knight, or man-at-arms, well mounted, and attired
completely in black armour, but having the visor of his helmet closed,
and bearing no crest on his helmet, or device upon his shield.
"We will follow no stranger," said the Abbot, "without some warrant
of his truth."
"I am a stranger and in your hands," said the horseman; "if you wish
to know more of me, the Queen herself will be your warrant."
The Queen had remained fixed to the spot, as if disabled by fear, yet
mechanically smiling, bowing, and waving her hand, as banners were
lowered and spears depressed before her, while, emulating the strife
betwixt Seyton and Arbroath, band on band pressed forward their march
towards the enemy. Scarce, however, had the black rider whispered
something in her ear, than she assented to what he said; and when he
spoke aloud, and with an air of command, "Gentlemen, it is the Queen's
pleasure that you should follow me," Mary uttered, with something like
eagerness, the word "Yes.
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