I had a new man to help me now．The Earl of Bothwell—a strong，clever man． He was older than me；he was not a boy like Darnley． He worked hard and he could think． He was a good fighter and he was not afraid of other men． Per－haps you are like him， James， my son？

In January your father，Darnley，was ill in Glasgow．I went to see him， and took him back to Edinburgh． He was unhappy， and afraid of people． He saw enemies behind every door． Poor stupid boy！ He said he loved me again． I was an－gry， but I felt sorry for him， too． He was very ill．

‘It's not far now， Henry，’I said．‘You can sleep in the castle．’

‘No， not there， please， Mary！’he said．‘I don't want to go into the castle． I'm afraid of it！’

‘But where do you want to go？’I asked．

‘Find me a little house outside the town， and stay with me there，’he said．‘We can be happy there．’

So I found him a small house called Kirk o’Field，outside Edinburgh． He stayed there， in a room upstairs， and some－times I slept in a room downstairs． Darnley was often afraid，and I visited him every day． Slowly， he got better．

On Sunday，9th February， there was a big wedding in Ed－inburgh． After the wedding， Bothwell and I walked out to Kirk o’Field to see Darnley and talk to him． Everyone sang，and laughed， and was very happy．

At ten o'clock I was tired．‘Good night， my lords，’I said．

‘I'm going downstairs to bed．’

Lord Bothwell put his hand on my arm．‘Your Majesty，’he said．‘You can't sleep here now．Don't you remember？Peo－ple are dancing and singing in town tonight—everyone wants you to go．’

‘Oh， yes． I forgot，’I said．‘Of course， people want to see me there． So， good night， Henry． Sleep well．’

Darnley was very unhappy．‘Please， Mary my love， don't go！’he said．‘Don't leave me here！’

But I did not love him now． I remembered the night when Riccio died．So I smiled and said，‘Good night，Henry．Be a man now．don't be afraid of the dark．’

Then I went downstairs with Lord Bothwell． Outside the house， we met one of Bothwell's men． He looked afraid， and there was something black on his face and hands．

‘Jesus， man， how dirty you are！’I said．‘Don't come near me with those hands．’

‘No， my lady， of course not，’he said． He looked at Both－well for a minute， and then ran away quickly． I laughed， got on my horse， and forgot about it．

I tell you before God， James， I did not kill your father．It was not me． I knew nothing about it—nothing！

I sang and danced in town， and then went to bed in Edin－burgh Castle． Then， at two o'clock in the morning， there was a sudden noise—a very big BANG！ Everybody heard it all through the town．

‘My God！’I said．‘What's that？’

Everyone ran out of their rooms．Lord Bothwell was down－stairs．‘Don't be afraid， ladies，’he said．‘My men are out－side—they're going to see what it is．’

After an hour he came to see me．‘Please sit down， my lady，’he said．‘I have some unhappy news．’

‘Yes，my lord．What is it？’

‘It's your husband， Lord Darnley． He is dead．’

‘But—how？ How did he die？ Who killed him？’

‘I don't know， my lady．That bang—that was his house，Kirk o’Field． It's not there any more．’

‘What？ And Darnley was inside？’

‘Well， no， my lady，’Bothwell said slowly．‘My men found him in the garden， not in the house． He is wearing only night clothes， and there is no blood on him． But he is dead． I am sorry．’

‘Take me out there！ I want to see him—now！’

‘Yes， my lady．’

I went out to Kirk o’Field in the early morning． There was no house now—no walls， no doors， no windows—nothing．And there in the garden， a long way from the house， was that poor dead boy， my husband．

I did not love him but I cried then． He was your father，James， and I did not kill him． I don't know who killed him，but he had many enemies in Scotland．

I was very afraid．I， too， had enemies， and I often slept there． Perhaps someone wanted to kill me， too．