In a very short time she was lying back in her boat, her lute in her hands, her hair showing golden beneath her headdress; the excitement which had come to her making her look very young indeed.

“Who is that in yonder boat?” she asked Lady Guildford who had accompanied her.

Lady Guildford tried to hide a faint alarm which, knowing her mistress so well, she could not help feeling. So far Margaret had behaved with decorum, although it had to be admitted that she suffered some provocation.

“It’s young Archibald Douglas, Your Grace.”

“A Douglas! Old Bell-the-Cat’s son?”

“Grandson, Your Grace.”

“Ah, yes, I see he is very young. And who is the lady with him?”

Lady Guildford’s mouth was a little prim. “That, Your Grace, is his young wife.”

“Indeed. And who is she?”

“She is Margaret, daughter of Patrick Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell.”

Margaret began to laugh. “There seem to be so many Margarets at the Court of Scotland.”

“It is a charming name, Your Grace,” murmured Lady Guildford.

Margaret did not answer, but she continued to watch the young man. She had always had a liking for Old Bell-the-Cat because he had sought to rival James in Janet Kennedy’s affection. And this was his grandson. How handsome he was! Gazing at him, she realized that her husband was beginning to look his age. All the Stuart good looks and charm could not give him eternal youth; and what a pleasant thing youth was. He must be near my own age, thought Margaret, possibly younger.

She turned her attention to his wife. Insipid, she decided, and unworthy of him.

Now their boats were close together and the young Douglases were aware of the proximity of the Queen.

“It is pleasant on the loch today,” Margaret called in a friendly fashion.

“It is indeed so, Your Grace.” His voice was melodious, as she had known it would be; and now that she was closer she could see how fresh his skin was, how bright his eyes. She liked the way his hair curled about his neck. By sweet St. Ninian, she thought, using her husband’s favorite oath, if Old Bell-the-Cat had half the good looks of his grandson, James must have found a formidable rival in him for the wanton Janet.

She played her lute as sweetly as she knew how and the lute in that other boat was silent.

When she had finished there was a round of applause in which he joined most heartily.

She bowed her head in acknowledgment of the applause.

Lady Guildford ventured: “There is a breeze arising, Your Grace. Should you not consider your health?”

“Row us to the shore,” Margaret commanded; and she turned to smile at the occupants of that other boat.

Trouble had flared up between Scotland and England. James was still smarting under Henry’s refusal to let Margaret have the jewels which were rightly hers, when news was brought to him that the English had seized certain Scottish ships and in the fight which preceded the capture an admiral of Scotland, Sir Andrew Barton, had been killed.

Margaret found him pacing up and down his apartment in an anger which was rare for him.

“I’ll not endure this,” he cried. “It is not a matter which can be settled over a council table. This is an act of war.”

Margaret wanted to know of whom he spoke, and when he retorted, “The English!” her resentment rose afresh. Why would he not take her into his confidence? Surely he realized that she could procure concessions from her own brother which his ministers could not hope to achieve.

“I doubt not,” she said tartly, “that there were faults on both sides.”

James regarded her thoughtfully.

“This quarrel goes back to the days when my father was on the throne,” he explained.

“Why don’t you tell me all about it, James? Don’t you see that because I am English I might be able to help?”

“You must admit that your brother is headstrong and hardly likely to listen to advice. But this is what happened. One of our merchants, a certain John Barton, was taken prisoner by the Portuguese and put to death. This happened, as I said, in my father’s reign. His family wanted vengeance on his slayers and, since this was denied them, they put to sea in an endeavor to destroy all the Portuguese ships that came their way. This was a dangerous thing to do, for pirates are reckless men and when there were no Portuguese ships available they sought to make prizes of ships of other nations. Some of these happened to be English. That was how the trouble started. The Howards fitted up ships and set out in search of the Bartons. This is the result.”

“It would seem to me that the Bartons deserved their fate, and what has happened is no reason for enmity between you and my brother.”

“The English have no right to destroy Scottish ships.”

“Nor have Scotsmen to act as pirates against English ships.”

“It is certainly a matter which must be brought to a stop. And as a result Lord Dacre and Dr. West will be arriving in Edinburgh shortly to discuss some sort of settlement with me.”

“I think you should listen to them in a friendly spirit,” said Margaret.

“Do not forget that your brother holds valuable property of yours which he will not give up.”

“I am sure if I were to plead with him I could make him understand that this strife between our countries is foolish and dangerous.”

“Strife is always dangerous, but I do not trust your brother, Margaret, and I never shall.”

“Yet you are ready enough to trust the French.”

“I have no reason to do otherwise.”

“And with the English… ”

“Why, you yourself know he will not give up your jewels.”

“James, when Lord Dacre and Dr. West come to Edinburgh, will you allow me to see them?”

James hesitated. Then he said, “Very well, you shall have your interview with them. Then perhaps you will understand where the fault for this enmity lies.”

Margaret received Dr. West and Lord Dacre in her apartments in Stirling Castle. Her son was with her there, for she did not care that he should be far from her and she always found great pleasure in visiting the nursery where David Lindsay was already in charge.

David seemed to be acting as nurse to the boy. He it was who carried him about in his arms, and in spite of young James’s age he was already aware of the devotion of this man and apt to be fretful when he was not present. David Lindsay watched over the child with the utmost care and had at last, after several failures, discovered the perfect wet nurse for him in a buxom Irish woman.

David could scarcely wait for the boy to grow up, so eager was he to introduce him to music and poetry. But he never for one moment forgot how important to the country was this young life; and in those early days he gave his attention to his bodily needs. It was a great pleasure for Margaret to visit his nursery, and hear from David how her son was progressing. He was a beautiful baby, full of good health; and while this was so, other matters seemed of far less importance.

All the same Margaret did want to make peace between her brother and her husband. She had thrown herself into this project with great zest, partly because she was a woman who would always want to rule; partly to take her mind from young Archibald Douglas whom she saw frequently and of whom she was thinking far too much.

When she received the English ambassadors she greeted them with warmth and asked many questions as to the health of the King and Queen of England. His Grace, her brother, she was told, was in fine good health; the Queen, due to her recent disappointment, a little less so.

“My poor sister!” said Margaret with feeling. “I beg you, when you return, tell her that I pray for her continually and I hope with all my heart that in due course she will be as happy as I. Now tell me, have you brought me news of my legacy?”

“Yes, Your Grace. The King, your brother, will most willingly send it to you.”

“Ah,” cried Margaret, “I knew he would. Then when will it arrive?”

“His Grace makes one condition. It is that the King of Scotland makes solemn promise to keep the peace with England and to sign no treaty with France.”

Margaret was startled. She knew that James would not consider such conditions, and she was as far from receiving her jewels as ever; and moreover, relations between her native land and that of her adoption were going to suffer greater strain.

“And if my husband refuses to accept these conditions… ?” she began.

Dr. West answered: “Your Grace, it grieves me to say this, but I repeat the words of my master. If the King, your husband, is determined on a state of war between England and Scotland, the King, my master, will not only keep the legacy but take the best towns of Scotland also.”

Margaret was fearful; she could almost hear her brother’s blustering boastful voice.

She was seeking for some rejoinder when James entered the room to see how the interview was progressing. She was glad that he had not heard those last ominous words.

It seemed imperative to Margaret that she heal the breach between her brother and husband. This dabbling in politics brought a new excitement to her life at a time when she needed it.

On several occasions in the dance she had found herself partnered by young Archibald Douglas, and she was thinking of him more frequently.

James was inclined to listen to her, but she knew that this was due to his natural courtesy rather than to any desire for her opinions. James was headstrong and believed in making his own decisions; if he would not always take the advice of his ministers it was scarcely likely that he would listen to that of his wife, who must necessarily lack their knowledge and experience.