But thou art court-bred and wilt well understand
me when I say the queen _commands_ Lady Fleming to tell her
when she led the last _branle_.' With a face deadly pale and
a mien as if she were about to sink into the earth, the
court-bred dame, no longer daring to refuse obedience,
faltered out, 'Gracious lady--if my memory err not--it was
at a masque in Holyrood--at the marriage of Sebastian.' The
unhappy queen, who had hitherto listened with a melancholy
smile, provoked by the reluctance with which the Lady
Fleming brought out her story, at this ill-fated word
interrupted her with a shriek so wild and loud that the
vaulted apartment rang, and both Roland and Catherine sprung
to their feet in the utmost terror and alarm. Meantime, Mary
seemed, by the train of horrible ideas thus suddenly
excited, surprised not only beyond self-command, but for the
moment beyond the verge of reason. 'Traitress,' she said to
the Lady Fleming, 'thou wouldst slay thy sovereign.
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