not desired the murder, and that the lords had carried the matter
out of his hands and much beyond all that he had intended.

Because it suited her deep purpose, Mary consented, feigning to be
persuaded. She had realized that before she could deal with
Darnley, and the rebel lords who held her a prisoner, she must first
win free from Holyrood.

Darnley came. He was sullen now, mindful of his recent treatment,
and in fear - notwithstanding Murray's reassurance - of further
similar rebuffs. She announced herself ready to hear what he might
have to say, and she listened attentively while he spoke, her elbow
on the carved arm of her chair, her chin in her hand. When he had
done, she sat long in thought, gazing out through the window at the
grey March sky. At length she turned and looked at him.

"Do you pretend, my lord, to regret for what has passed?" she
challenged him.

"You tempt me to hypocrisy," he said. "Yet I will be frank as at
an Easter shrift. Since that fellow Davie fell into credit and
familiarity with Your Majesty, you no longer treated me nor
entertained me after your wonted fashion, nor would you ever bear
me company save this Davie were the third. Can I pretend, then,
to regret that one who deprived me of what I prized most highly
upon earth should have been removed? I cannot. Yet I can and do
proclaim my innocence of any part or share in the deed that has
removed him."

She lowered her eyes an instant, then raised them again to meet