replied, composedly, "I have no hesitation to say, that the perpetrators
of this assassination have committed, in my opinion, a rash and wicked
action, which I regret the more, as I foresee it will be made the cause
of proceedings against many who are both innocent of the deed, and as far
from approving it as myself."

While Henry thus expressed himself, Bothwell, who bent his eyes keenly
upon him, seemed suddenly to recollect his features.

"Aha! my friend Captain Popinjay, I think I have seen you before, and in
very suspicious company."

"I saw you once," answered Henry, "in the public-house of the town of--."

"And with whom did you leave that public-house, youngster?--Was it not
with John Balfour of Burley, one of the murderers of the Archbishop?"

"I did leave the house with the person you have named," answered Henry,
"I scorn to deny it; but, so far from knowing him to be a murderer of the
primate, I did not even know at the time that such a crime had been
committed."

"Lord have mercy on me, I am ruined!--utterly ruined and undone!"
exclaimed Milnwood. "That callant's tongue will rin the head aff his ain
shoulders, and waste my gudes to the very grey cloak on my back!"

"But you knew Burley," continued Bothwell, still addressing Henry, and
regardless of his uncle's interruption, "to be an intercommuned rebel and
traitor, and you knew the prohibition to deal with such persons. You
knew, that, as a loyal subject, you were prohibited to reset, supply, or