"Why should you fear for Scotland, my father?" she would urge; "is it
because her queen is but a child and now far distant, that anarchy and
gloom shall enfold our land? Is it not shame in ye thus craven to deem
her sons, when in thy own breast so much devotion and loyalty have rest?
why not judge others by yourself, my father, and know the dark things of
which ye dream can never be?"

"Thou speakest as the enthusiast thou art, my child. Yet it is not the
rule of our maiden queen my foreboding spirit dreads; 'tis that on such
a slender thread as her young life suspends the well-doing or the ruin
of her kingdom. If she be permitted to live and reign over us, all may
be well; 'tis on the event of her death for which I tremble."

"Wait till the evil day cometh then, my father; bring it not nearer by
anticipation; and should indeed such be, thinkest thou not there are
bold hearts and loyal souls to guard our land from foreign foe, and give
the rightful heir his due?"

"I know not, Isabella. There remain but few with the pure Scottish blood
within their veins, and it is but to them our land is so dear: they
would peril life and limb in her defence. It is not to the proud baron
descended from the intruding Norman, and thinking only of his knightly
sports and increase of wealth, by it matters not what war. Nor dare we
look with confidence to the wild chiefs of the north and the Lords of
the Isles; eager to enlarge their own dominions, to extend the terrors
of their name, they will gladly welcome the horrors and confusion that
may arise; and have we true Scottish blood enough to weigh against
these, my child? Alas! Isabella, our only hope is in the health and
well-doing of our queen, precarious as that is; but if she fail us, woe
to Scotland!"