But Mary, unable to reply, clung to her hand, making a sign with her head that nothing in the world should part her from her mistress.  Then all who had accompanied the queen renewed their entreaties that she should not persist in this fatal resolve, and when she was already a third of the way along the plank placed for her to enter the skiff, the Prior of Dundrennan, who had offered Mary Stuart such dangerous and touching hospitality, entered the water up to his knees, to try to detain her; but all was useless:  the queen had made up her mind.

At that, moment Lowther approached her.  “Madam,” said he, “accept anew my regrets that I cannot offer a warm welcome in England to all who would wish to follow you there; but our queen has given us positive orders, and we must carry them out.  May I be permitted to remind your Majesty that the tide serves?”

“Positive orders!” cried the prior.  “Do you hear, madam?  Oh! you are lost if you quit this shore!  Back, while there is yet time!  Back; madam, in Heaven’s name!  To me, sir knights, to me!” he cried, turning to Lord Herries and the other lords who had accompanied Mary Stuart; “do not allow your queen to abandon you, were it needful to struggle with her and the English at the same time.  Hold her back, my lords, in Heaven’s name! withhold her!”

“What means this violence, sir priest?” said the Warden of the Marches.  “I came here at your queen’s express command; she is free to return to you, and there is no need to have recourse to force for that”.  Then, addressing the queen—­

“Madam,” said he, “do you consent to follow me into England in full liberty of choice?  Answer, I entreat you; for my honour demands that the whole world should be aware that you have followed me freely.”

“Sir,” replied Mary Stuart, “I ask your pardon, in the name of this worthy servant of God and his queen, for what he may have said of offence to you.  Freely I leave Scotland and place myself in your hands, trusting that I shall be free either to remain in England with my royal sister, or to return to France to my worthy relatives”.  Then, turning to the priest, “Your blessing, father, and God protect you!”

“Alas! alas!” murmured the abbot, obeying the queen, “it is not we who are in need of God’s protection, but rather you, my daughter.  May the blessing of a poor priest turn aside from you the misfortunes I foresee!  Go, and may it be with you as the Lord has ordained in His wisdom and in His mercy!”

Then the queen gave her hand to the sheriff, who conducted her to the skiff, followed by Mary Seyton and two other women only.  The sails were immediately unfurled, and the little vessel began to recede from the shores of Galloway, to make her way towards those of Cumberland.  So long as it could be seen, they who had accompanied the queen lingered on the beach, waving her signs of adieu, which, standing on the deck of the shallop which was bearing her, away, she returned with her handkerchief.  Finally, the boat disappeared, and all burst into lamentations or into sobbing.  They were right, for the good Prior of Dundrennan’s presentiments were only too true, and they had seen Mary Stuart for the last time.