‘It must have been a fearsome wound,’ said Malcolm.  ’The marvel is your overgetting it.’

’So say they all; and truly it has lasted no small time.  They shipped me off home so soon as I could leave my bed, and bade me rest.  Nay, and my mother herself came even to London, when my brother was summoned to Parliament,—­she who had never been there since the first year after she was wedded!’

‘You can scarce complain of such kin as that,’ said Malcolm.

’’Tis not the kin, but this petty Border life, that frets me.  Here we move from castle to castle, and now and then come tidings of a cattle lifting, and Harry dons his helm and rides forth, but nine times out of ten ’tis a false alarm, or if it be true, the thieves have made off, and being time of peace, he, as Warden, cannot make a raid in return.  I’m sick of the life, after the only warfare fit for a knight, with French nobles instead of Border thieves; and back I will.  If my right arm will not serve me, the left shall.  I can use a lance indifferent well already.’

As Sir Ralf Percy spoke, a bugle-call rang through the castle.  He started.  ‘Hark! that’s the warder’s horn,’ and flying to the door, he soon returned crying—­’Your king is in sight, Malcolm!’

‘How soon will he be here?’

’In less than half an hour.  There’s time to array yourself.  I’ll take you to my chamber.’

‘Thanks,’ said Malcolm; ’but this gown is no disguise to me.  I had rather meet the King thus, for it is my fitting garb.  Only I would remove the soil of the journey, and then take my sister by the hand.’

For this there was ample time, and Malcolm had arranged his hair, and brushed away the dust from his gown, washed his face and hands, and made himself look more like an Oxford bachelor, and less like a begging clerk, than he had of late judged it prudent to appear, ere Ralf took him to the great hall, where he found Lord Northumberland and the chief gentlemen of his household, with his mother, Lady Percy, and his young wife, together with their ladies, assembling for the reception of their royal guests.

Malcolm was presented to, and kindly greeted by, each of the principal personages, and then the Earl, Sir Ralf, and their officers went forth to meet the King at the gateway.  Malcolm, however, at his sister’s entreaty, remained with her, for in the doubt whether Patrick were really at hand, and a fond unreasonable vexation that he had had no part in her liberation, her colour was coming and going, and she looked as if she might almost faint in her intense excitement.

But when, marshalled by the two Percies, King James and Queen Joan had entered the hall, and the blare of trumpets without and rejoicings within, and had been welcomed with deep reverences by the two ladies, Ralf said:  ‘Sir, methinks you have here what you may be glad to see.’

And standing aside, he made way for the two figures to stand forth, one in the plain black gown and hood, the other in the rich robes of a high-born maiden, her dark eyes on the ground, her fair face quivering within emotion, as both she and her brother bent the knee before their royal master.