away with her attendants. As for Durham, he had set out the moment he
received permission.

It was nine o'clock in the evening. Darnley, left alone, carefully shut
the doors within, and retired to rest, though in readiness to rise to let
in the servant who should come to spend the night with him. Scarcely was
he in bed than the same noise that he had heard the night before
recommenced; this time Darnley listened with all the attention fear
gives, and soon he had no longer any doubt but that several men were
walking about beneath him. It was useless to call, it was dangerous to
go out; to wait was the only course that remained to the king. He made
sure again that the doors were well fastened, put his sword under his
pillow, extinguished his lamp for fear the light might betray him, and
awaited in silence for his servant's arrival; but the hours passed away,
and the servant did not come. At one o'clock in the morning, Bothwell,
after having talked some while with the queen, in the presence of the
captain of the guard, returned home to change his dress; after some
minutes, he came out wrapped up in the large cloak of a German hussar,
went through the guard-house, and had the castle gate opened. Once
outside, he took his way with all speed to Kirk of Field, which he
entered by the opening in the wall: scarcely had he made a step in the
garden than he met James Balfour, governor of the castle.

"Well," he said to him, "how far have we got?

"Everything is ready," replied Balfour, "and we were waiting for you to
set fire to the fuse". "That is well," Bothwell answered--"but first I
want to make sure that he is in his room."

At these words, Bothwell opened the pavilion door with a false key, and,