several persons that "she cared not to lose France, England, and her own country for him, and would go with him to the world's end in a white petticoat before she would leave him."
This Fata Morgana had now reached its brightest, and it was time that it should melt away. The nobles of Scotland awoke as from a dream, and prepared themselves for instant action. It was indeed not more than necessary; for, independently of the foul dishonour that had accumulated upon the nation and themselves through the late transactions, Bothwell was now aiming at obtaining the guardianship of the young prince ; and under such a custody the royal infant would soon have been laid beside his murdered father, that a new dynasty might be planted upon the Scottish throne. In the meantime, the queen and Bothwell were at Borthwick Castle, unconscious of the gathering storm, until the associated lords, at the head of 2000 men, advanced and invested the stronghold. As resistance was hopeless, Bothwell, at the first tidings of their coming, stole away, and soon after was joined by Mary, booted and spurred, and in the disguise of a page. They rode through the night at full speed to Dunbar, and there exerted themselves with such activity, that in two days they were at. the head of 2500 armed followers, with whom they returned to the encounter. The lords, whose forces now amounted to 3000 men, advanced to meet them mid-way, and the two armies soon confronted each other at Carberry Hill, six miles from Edinburgh. But very different was the spirit that animated them, for while the insurgent army was eager to revenge the death of the late king, and preserve his son from the murderer, the troops of Bothwell wavered, and talked of negotiation and compromise. It was necessary to restore their courage by an example of personal daring, and accordingly he sent a herald to the opposite host, offering the trial of single combat in proof of his innocence. Instantly, James Murray of Tullibardin started forward as an opponent, but was rejected by Bothwell as being not his equal in rank. Murray's elder brother, William, the laird of Tullibardin, then offered himself, alleging that he was of an older house than that of his adversary; but him also Bothwell refused, claimed an earl for his opponent, and specified in particular the Earl of Morton, the leader of the insurgents. Morton, as fearless a Douglas as any of his ancestors, accepted the challenge, and prepared for a combat at outrance on foot, and with two-handed swords. But before he could step forth to the affray, Lord Lindsay, the Ajax of the Scottish Reformation interposed, with the entreaty that he should be allowed to meet the challenger, as being the kinsman of the unfortunate Darnley. Morton assented, and armed him with the two-handed sword of that Douglas who was called Bell-the-Cat. But here Mary interfered: she had no wish to expose her husband to a meeting with such a redoubted champion, and Bothwell yielded to her entreaties. His repeated hesitations, when he should at once have drawn his weapon and marched to the encounter, had so confirmed the timidity of his followers, that already most of them had disbanded, leaving none with him but sixty gentlemen and a band of hacbutters, while the opposite army were surrounding the hill, and cutting off the means of retreat. In this emergency, nothing remained for Bothwell but flight, which the queen earnestly counselled: she would surrender to the lords, and win them back to their allegiance; after which his recal would be easy, and their future course a happy one. After assuring him of her fidelity, which she would keep to the last, and giving her hand upon the promise, Bothwell rode from the field, accompanied by a few
