Child Royal. D. K. Broster
princess presented by her nurse. “How she has grown since I saw her last! And my small son Louis . . . asleep elsewhere, no doubt?”
Both the Dauphin and his eldest sister were now pulling at their father, making innumerable requests. “All in good time, little chatter-boxes,” said King Henri good-humouredly, “all in good time!” And then he became the King again.
“My lords and ladies, you may now withdraw. Monsieur d’Humières, will you convey my dear daughter the Queen of Scotland and Monseigneur the Dauphin and the Princess Elisabeth to my own apartments, that I may enjoy their society there.—Nay, first there is a further thing to do. If my daughter the Queen of Scotland permits, my escort, the archers of my guard, all of her own nation, who have ridden hither with me, desire to kiss her hand, which will more than recompense them for their hard riding. Do you consent to this, Madame la reine d’Ecosse?”
“With all my heart, your Majesty,” said the child sedately, but with brightening eyes.
The King waved his hand towards two chairs of state which stood upon a small dais against the wall. To one of these Lady Fleming conducted the Queen of Scots, waiting, however, for the King to seat himself first in the other. But Henri shook his head good-humouredly, and merely saying, “Bid my escort now enter,” went and stood by the great hearth as though to warm himself, his melancholy eyes fixed upon the scene.
Once more the ushers drew apart the tapestry curtains, but wider this time, and through them came in double file a dozen of the archers of the famous Scottish Guard in their white, gold-embroidered surcoats with hanging over-sleeves striped diagonally with gold. Magdalen Lindsay did not recognise in this unfamiliar garb the man who had taken farewell of her at Roscoff, but Mary Stuart had better eyes, for when all the Archers had kissed her hand, she gave a little cry and stood up from her chair, looked hard at the row of Scottish gentlemen gazing at her with such pleasure and emotion, and next moment, like any small girl, had jumped off the dais and was running to King Henri by the hearth.
“Sire, my good father, I have a favour to ask!”
“A favour? Ask what you will, my dear daughter, and it is yours.”
“Yonder in your guard,” said the little Queen excitedly, “is Master Ninian Graham, who saved me from the savage dog on board the galley. And if your Majesty is willing, I desire him for my own service.”
The King looked somewhat astonished, as well he might. “Saved you from a savage dog? Whose—Ah, I remember, M. de Brézé wrote of something of the sort. But how came one of my Archers . . . nay, I remember that also. Monsieur de Graeme, come forward.” And as Ninian obeyed, the King went on: “Why, when I summoned you at Lyons, did you not tell me that it was you who saved her Majesty, for I spoke of the affair, I believe?”
“Because it was nothing, sire; only the kindness of her Grace recalls it.”
“No, Master Graham is wrong,” urged Mary; “it was not nothing. My brother’s great dog would have attacked me, had not Master Graham come between. And he was hurt himself—his arm . . .”
The King looked round the circle as if asking for corroboration. Lord Livingstone stepped forward.
“It is perfectly true, your Majesty. The Lord Robert Stuart’s dog was excited by the presence of some quails which were in the cabin near her Majesty, and flew at them and her Majesty. It has been a source of gratification to me, as one of the late Keepers of the Queen of Scots, that it was a kinsman of my own who had the honour of saving her from this peril.”
“Tudieu! Perils by sea I know her Majesty ran, but I had no notion there were others! And so”—Henri smiled down at the small royal suppliant—“so you wish me to give up Monsieur de Graeme to you! But, madame my daughter, what shall I do if one of my dogs attacks me?”
“I shall defend you, my King!” promptly said the Dauphin, laying his hand upon his miniature rapier. “And I shall defend her Majesty the Queen of Scotland, if need be.”
“Then she will hardly need Monsieur de Graeme,” replied the King, looking fondly upon him. “Well, we will deliberate upon the matter. Now, my children, we will go to my apartments, and you shall tell me, Marie, of all the other incidents of your voyage to the land which you have made happy by your coming.”
(9)
Early next day, even before the rest of his suite had reached Carrières, the King was off to St. Germain to ascertain in person, such was his concern for his children, that all was now in order for their reception there, in the great pile which his father had built. The château had been thoroughly cleaned out, since the court’s last stay, such periodical cleansings being highly necessary, and forming indeed one of the reasons for the frequent royal changes of residence. The report was already going about that King Henri was enraptured with the little Queen of Scots, who was, he had told her gouvernante, the most perfect child he had ever seen. Nor, added one or two observers, had he appeared ill-pleased with the gouvernante herself.
Had not the other eleven Archers who had ridden with the King from Moulins to Carrières been Scots like himself, and rapt to heaven by the sight of their child queen, Ninian might have had to undergo some chaffing about the notice bestowed upon him, and his little sovereign’s ingenuous request. As it was, he was an object of envy to them for the privilege of having done the royal child a service. And Ninian himself never gave the request another thought, save to bless the warm childish heart which had prompted it.
And now, for a time at least, Court and royal nursery were under the same roof at St. Germain-en-Laye. This, therefore, was the opportunity to present to Mistress Magdalen Lindsay the veil, of the finest Cyprus lawn, which Ninian had bought for her in Lyons; accordingly one afternoon, when his spell of duty was over, he disposed the little packet in his doublet and made ready to mount to the apartments of the Queen of Scots which were, by the King’s desire, over those of the Constable. But his intention was frustrated, for the moment at least, since he was at that very point of time summoned to the King’s presence.
Henri II had not long come in from hunting in the great forest of St. Germain, and was in his cabinet with some of his nobles and gentlemen, all discussing the number and ferocity of the boars which had fallen to their spears. He beckoned the Archer to come to him in the embrasure of a window, a little apart. As usual after indulging his master passion, the chase, he was in a cheerful mood.
“I have sent for you, my good Graeme,” he began, “because I have not forgotten your courage and address in the matter of the dog which attacked the Queen of Scotland, nor the Queen’s request to have you attached to her household, which she has since renewed to me. But even the Dauphin has not yet his separate household, and I wish her Majesty to be brought up, for the next few years, with the Princess Elisabeth in the household of the Enfants de France.”
He paused, and Ninian said respectfully: “So one has understood, sire,” and wondered why he should have been summoned to the royal presence to hear this.
“Nevertheless,” pursued the King, “the Queen has within that household her own particular attendants. Therefore, although I am sorry to lose you from my guard, Monsieur de Graeme, I have, to please my new daughter, decided to reward you by creating a post for you amongst them.”
“Your Majesty is very good,” murmured Monsieur de Graeme, considerably taken aback.
“I have ascertained from the Queen’s gouvernante, Madame de Flamyn,” went on Henri, playing with the medal hanging from his neck, “that her Majesty has a great desire to perfect her horsemanship, for it seems that, in spite of her youth, she has already ridden a little in her own country. I know you to be a skilful horseman, and it is my intention to appoint you to the post of Master of the Horse to the Queen of Scotland. The brevet is being prepared, and you will take up your duties on the first of December. For those duties you would do well to consult the Lords of Erskine and Livingstone” (the royal pronunciation was Asquin and Leviston). “Seek out one or two peaceable palfreys for the Queen’s use, and when occasion offers, instruct her carefully.