"
"Heaven," said the Abbot, "thy hand is upon us!--Bear yet up, madam
--your foes are the foes of Holy Church, and God will this day decide
whether Scotland shall be Catholic or heretic."
A heavy and continued fire of cannon and musketry, bore a tremendous
burden to his words, and seemed far more than they to recall the
spirits of the Queen.
"To yonder tree," she said, pointing to a yew-tree which grew on a
small mount close to the castle; "I know it well--from thence you may
see a prospect wide as from the peaks of Schehallion."
And freeing herself from her assistants, she walked with a determined,
yet somewhat wild step, up to the stem of the noble yew. The Abbot,
Catherine, and Roland Avenel followed her, while Lady Fleming kept
back the inferior persons of her train. The black horseman also
followed the Queen, waiting on her as closely as the shadow upon the
light, but ever remaining at the distance of two or three yards---he
folded his arms on his bosom, turned his back to the battle, and
seemed solely occupied by gazing on Mary, through the bars of his
closed visor. The Queen regarded him not, but fixed her eyes upon the
spreading yew."
"Ay, fair and stately tree," she said, as if at the sight of it she
had been rapt away from the present scene, and had overcome the horror
which had oppressed her at the first approach to Crookstone, "there
thou standest, gay and goodly as ever, though thou hearest the sounds
of war, instead of the vows of love.
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