to fight for a woman's caprice, and not for the good of the country: they
cried aloud, then, that "since Bothwell alone was aimed at, it was for
Bothwell to defend his cause". And he, vain and blustering as usual,
gave out that he was ready to prove his innocence in person against
whomsoever would dare to maintain that he was guilty. Immediately
everyone with any claim to nobility in the rival camp accepted the
challenge; and as the honour was given to the bravest, Kirkcaldy of
Grange, Murray of Tullibardine, and Lord Lindsay of Byres defied him
successively. But, be it that courage failed him, be it that in the
moment of danger he did not himself believe in the justice of his cause,
he, to escape the combat, sought such strange pretexts that the queen
herself was ashamed; and his most devoted friends murmured.

Then Mary, perceiving the fatal humour of men's minds, decided not to run
the risk of a battle. She sent a herald to Kirkcaldy of Grange, who was
commanding an outpost, and as he was advancing without distrust to
converse with the queen, Bothwell, enraged at his own cowardice, ordered
a soldier to fire upon him; but this time Mary herself interposed,
forbidding him under pain of death to offer the least violence. In the
meanwhile, as the imprudent order given by Bothwell spread through the
army, such murmurs burst forth that he clearly saw that his cause was for
ever lost.

That is what the queen thought also; for the result of her conference
with Lord Kirkcaldy was that she should abandon Bothwell's cause, and
pass over into the camp of the Confederates, on condition that they would
lay down their arms before her and bring her as queen to Edinburgh.
Kirkcaldy left her to take these conditions to the nobles, and promised
to return next day with a satisfactory answer. But at the moment of
leaving Bothwell, Mary was seized again with that fatal love for him that