most intimately associated; not indeed from the rude and evil, for from those she intuitively shrunk.  Beneath her husband’s influence, cradled in his love, her spirit received and cherished the reflection of his strength; of itself, she too truly felt it had none; and consequently when that beloved one was far away, the reflection passed from her mind even as the gleam of his armor from the mirror on which it glanced, and Margaret was weak and timorous again.  She had thought, and hoped, and prayed, her unfeigned admiration of Isabella of Buchan, her meek and beautiful appreciation of those qualities and candid acknowledgment that such was the character most adapted to her warrior husband, would bring more steadiness and courage to her own woman breast.  Alas! the fearful fate which had overtaken the heroic countess came with such a shock to the weaker soul of Margaret, that if she had obtained any increase of courage, it was at once annihilated, and the desponding fancy entered her mind that if evil reached one so noble, so steadfast in thought and in action, how might she hope to escape; and now, when weakened and depressed alike by bodily and mental suffering, such fancies obtained so much possession of her that she became more and more restless.  The exertions of Sir Nigel and his companions, even of her own friends, failed in rousing or infusing strength.  Sometimes it was vague conjectures as to the fate of her husband, the dread that he had fallen into the hands of his foes—­a catastrophe which not only herself but many stronger minds imagined could scarcely be avoided.  She would dwell on these fancies till suspense became intolerable; and then, if these were partially calmed, came personal fears:  the belief that if attacked the castle could not muster force enough for defence; suspicions of treachery in the garrison, and other symptoms of the wavering nature of her mind, till Sir Nigel felt too truly that if danger did come she would not stay to meet it.  Her wishes ever turned to the sanctuary of St. Duthac in the domains of the Earl of Ross, believing the sanctity of the place would be more effectual protection than the strongest castle and bravest force.  In vain Sir Nigel remonstrated, nay, assured her that the fidelity of the Lord of Ross was impugned; that he doubted his flattering overtures; that he was known to be in correspondence with England.  But he spoke in vain—­the queen persisted in trusting him; that he had ever been a friend of her father and brother the Earls of Mar, and he would be faithful to her interests now.  Her opinion weighed with many of the ladies of her court, even amongst those who were not affected with her fears.  At such times Agnes never spoke, but there was a calm, quiet determination in her expression that convinced the Lady Seaton, who alone had leisure to observe her, that her resolution was already taken and unalterable.