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That
neither aimed quite so high as that was at once their safeguard and
their tragedy.

The
fact that Magdalen was largely free, at last, of Kinnaird and her
family, undoubtedly greatly helped. Montrose had castles and estates
over the length and breadth of the land; more than that, branches of
his house and clan still more widely dispersed. After so long an
absence, it was necessary to visit all, make innumerable decisions on
the spot, put much to rights, show himself to his people. Almost
everywhere he went he took his Countess and his sons, to introduce
and display them, as was expected of him. Consequently they were not
much at Kinnaird, or at the town-house in Montrose either, during
that summer and autumn of 1636 — to the marked advantage of
their union.

But
if matters personal and private were thus lightened somewhat in these
months, matters national and public were not. Everywhere James Graham
went the talk was the same, resentment, murmurings, the stirrings of
revolt. By and large, the people of Scotland, of all ranks and
degrees, were angry. They were loyal enough. Indeed, it was
remarkable how loyal they remained, considering that their king,
James the Sixth and his son Charles, had deserted them for London, so
clearly preferring everything English, and considering their old
realm scarcely worth even visiting. But to the Scot, religion was
highly personal and precious, not any mere formality, or separate
compartment of life which could be accepted or more or less shrugged
off for the sake of peace. The metaphysical implications of his
faith were part and parcel of his being. New forms of worship or
theology were not to be imposed on him from without, by king,
parliament or hierarchy - more especially from England. For that very
reason the Reformation had come later to Scotland than to almost any
other nation in Christendom; but when it did come it had been more
basic, comprehensive, drastic. Now their religion was not only being
interfered with, but actually changed, by dictate from London, made
to conform with that of England. It was not to be borne.

All
this was bad enough. But there was another aspect of the situation
which was worrying - especially for one placed in Montrose's
position, straddling as it were the Highland Line, both in the
location of his estates and the background of his blood and race. The
Reformation had never really penetrated to the true Highlands
effectively, certainly not to the remoter areas - except for the
Campbells' Argyll. Therefore, these London edicts were of little
or no interest in the Highlands. But, unfortunately, the Gordon
chief, the Marquis of Huntly, not actually a Highlander himself but
a
strong
Catholic and having great influence in all the North, was declaring
himself wholly and vigorously in favour of the King in all this - and
seeing that others did likewise. So that there was a serious division
forming in Scotland, to the country's hurt, Highland versus Lowland,
North versus the rest, Catholic versus Protestant. It was ominous and
dangerous as it was grievously disappointing for all who had the
unity of the realm at heart

With
the days shortening, Montrose took his little family and entourage to
settle down at Kincardine Castle, on the southern verges of
Strathearn. Magdalen was uneasy about this, still under her father's
spell and afraid that it would cause offence. Moreover, all her life
she had never lived anywhere else but at Kinnaird. But James Graham
was determined on it, that they were not going back to Kinnaird,
declaring that it was not suitable that the Earl of Montrose should
roost always in another's house as though he had no place of his own.
Kincardine was his favourite property, as it had been his father's
before him.

So
the old grey castle, on the rocky bluff above the wooded ravine of
the Ruthven Water, was opened up and refurbished, and again
young voices rang within its ancient walls, to challenge the singing
of tree-top birds and the rush of falling water. The headlong Ruthven
came boiling out of Glen Eagles, in the Ochils foothills of south
Perthshire, to swing eastwards in its deep sylvan hanging glen above
the Strathearn head-town of Auchterarder, before falling into the
Earn at Aberuthven. In this winding sheltered valley, with the
magnificent prospects of the Highland mountains across the wide
strath, the Graham castle soared high on a rocky promontory, an
eagle's nest of a hold, of lofty, mellow stone walls, crowstepped
gables, steep roofs and pepper-pot turrets. Small compared with
Kinnaird, or even Montrose's own Mugdock, Dundaff or Fintry, towering
upwards instead of sideways, within its cramped and oddly shaped
courtyard, it was a modest seat for so great a lord; but it was
strong enough, and most pleasing in character as in surroundings. And
it was central, not only for the various Graham lands, but for
Stirling, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Perth and St Andrews, places where
things were apt to happen in ScoUand.

It
was one golden day of belated autumn, in mid-November, with all
Strathearn aglow with colour, that Montrose, returning to
Kincardine with the sinking sun from hunting hinds in the Ochils,
found company awaiting him. He rode over the drawbridge into the
little courtyard above the dizzy drop, with Kilpont, whose home at
Airth was only a score of miles to the south, and Black Pate Graham,
Younger of Inchbrakie near by, who had taken over from Young Morphie
as personal esquire, to find the place crowded with a dozen and more
horses, their grooms and armed attendants hanging around them,
indicating that it was no unimportant company.

In
his hall, James Graham found Magdalen entertaining, in some evident
embarrassment, two very oddly paired visitors, who in their different
ways seemed to discompose her almost equally. One was burly, almost
gross, of late middle years, untidy, dressed in shabby finery, a
coarse-featured, red-faced, noisy man with little pig-like eyes that
were very shrewd - John Leslie, sixth Earl of Rothes, and strangely
enough, the most popular man in Scotland. The other was tall, thin,
dark and soberly dignified, with sternly ascetic features, fine eyes
and an expression of harshly restrained intensity, clad all in black.

Montrose
had met Rothes only once before, when hft was still a student at St
Andrews; but the older man greeted him like a friend, a crony, of
long standing, punching his shoulder, belabouring his back, and
spluttering couthy assertions of admiration, esteem, affection. James
Graham, a fastidious man, sought not to allow his distaste to show.

'Laddie,
laddie - you're braw, right braw! Fair magnificent, indeed!
Guidsakes - you've come on! Here's John Leslie's hand. A right swack
man's come back to your bed, lassie! You'll ken the differ, I'll be
bound? Hey?' Rothes almost always affected the broadest Doric.

Montrose
extricated himself with difficulty from the other's salutations, at
the same time seeking to come to the rescue of his flushing wife.
I
am
the more fortunate, my lord,' he said. 'The better for being home. I
hope I see your lordship well?'

'You
seeanauld done runt, by God!' the burly man roared. 'Ask
my
wife!
But, och - no' so done yet that the sight o' this weel-favoured quean
doesna raise the man in me, by the powers! I was just by way o'
telling hersel' the same . .

'Hm.
No doubt, my lord. And this
..
?' Montrose turned to the other man.

‘
Ooh,
aye - this is nane other than the Reverend Henderson. Maister
Alexander Henderson himsel'. Minister o' Leuchars, in my county
o' Fife. A scholar, see you - and a tower o' strength in the Kirk
today. He's desirous o' a bit word in your lug, James. As am I.'

'I
have heard of Master Henderson - and only heard good,' Montrose said,
holding out his hand. 'You honour my house, sir.'

The
minister bowed stiffly, his eyes searching, but said nothing. The
younger man felt that he was being weighed and assessed.

‘
You
will not have eaten ? Your horses were still steaming in my yard. No
doubt my wife has bidden you bide the night with us?'

'Hech,
eye. Mind you, I'd have accepted her bonnie hospitality even sharper
had I heard frae her that you werena coming hame this night! But a
man must sup his gruel as it's ladled out. Aye, we'll bide.'

'My
lady Montrose has been entirely kind. And very patient. I am
grateful,' Henderson said, and his voice was unexpectedly rich and
vibrant.

Magdalen
hurried from the hall.

Later,
the three men sat before a log fire in the small upper chamber which
Montrose had set aside as a study and lined with books, parchments
and documents which he had collected and sent home during his
years on the Continent - a collection which obviously much interested
Alexander Henderson at least. A large flagon of wine occupied a small
table beside them, and Rothes was working his way steadily through
it, though the other two only sipped their liquor. The older earl's
bawdy stories and outrageous and scurrilous anecdotes had been
non-stop throughout the preceding meal, and still went on - his host
and fellow guest bearing with them as best they might, the former
with a civility in which patience was evident, the latter with a sort
of steely impassivity.

Then,
quite abruptly, Rothes changed his tune, and the little darting eyes
he turned on Montrose were gimlet-sharp and in no way clouded with
wine.

'How
stand you with the man Charles Stewart?' he demanded starkly.

The
younger man stroked long fingers over mouth and tiny pointed beard,
taking his time to answer that barked question. 'I am a loyal
subject of His Grace,' he said, at length.

'Aye
- nae doubt!' That was a snort. 'So are we all - while we value our
heads.
Balmerino
proved the wisdom o' that.
I'm
no' speaking of your loyalty, James. It's your wits I'm concerned
with. Archie Napier tells me that this Montrose has a head on him.
And, forbye, notions beyond the ordinary. Are you for the Kirk, man -
or the bishops?'

'Must
I be for one and against the other, my lord? I was never greatly
concerned with forms of worship, before I left on my travels. And in
the different lands of Christendom, I saw nothing which made me to
believe that a man's salvation depended on the form of words he
used to speak with his Maker, nor yet on the colour of a priest's
clothing. Is it so different in Scotland?'

'Och,
lad, dinna fence with words
.'

'My
lord Montrose,' Henderson intervened, quietly stern. ‘You
require freedom to worship Almighty God in your own way? Is that what
you say?'

'It
is, sir.'

'And
are you prepared to uphold such right, for others as well as
yourself?'

Carefully
Montrose scrutinised the lean, strangely sensitive face leaning
forwards towards his own. ‘I have not, I confess, deeply
considered whether I am, or not, sir,' he said. ‘But I concede
that, probably, I ought to be.'

'Ha
- there speaks a canny chiel!' Rothes cried. ‘No' that I'm
blaming you, lad. The man I respect uses his head. Scotland needs men
with cool heads more than men with hot tongues, in this pass.'

'Scotland
needs
every
man,
in this pass,' the minister amended evenly.