“More likely to be true than false,” added Lancaster; “I can believe any thing of that dark scowling villain Buchan—­even the murder of his child.”

“I believe it not,” answered Hereford; “bad as that man is, hard in heart as in temper, he has too much policy to act thus, even if he had no feelings of nature rising to prevent it.  No, no; I would wager the ruby brooch in my helmet that boy lives, and his father will make use of him to forward his own interests yet.”

“But why then forge this tale?” demanded their host; “how may that serve his purpose?”

“Easily enough, with regard to the vengeance we all know he vowed to wreak on his unhappy wife.  What deeper misery could he inflict upon her than the belief her boy was murdered? and as for its effect on Edward, trust a Comyn to make his own way clear.”

“But what do with the boy meanwhile?”

“Keep him under lock and key; chained up, may be, as a dog in a kennel, till he has broken his high spirit, and moulds him to the tool he wills,” answered Hereford, “or at least till his mother is out of his path.”

“Ha! thinkest thou the king will demand such sweeping vengeance?  He surely will not sentence a woman to death.”

“Had I thought so, had I only dreamed so,” replied Hereford, with almost startling sternness, “as there is a God above us, I would have risked the charge of treason and refused to give her up!  But no, my lords, no; changed as Edward is, he would not, he dared not use his power thus.  I meant but imprisonment, when I said out of the boy’s path—­more he will not do; but even such I love not.  Bold as it was to crown the rebel Bruce, the deed sprung from a noble heart, and noble deeds should meet with noble judgment.”

A bugle sounded twice or thrice sharply without, and occasioning some bustle at the lower part of the ball, interrupted for a brief space the converse of the lords.  A few minutes after, the seneschal, attended by two or three higher servants, returned, marshalling in due form two young men in the garb of esquires, followed by some fifteen or twenty men-at-arms.

“Ha!  Fitz-Ernest and Hugo; well met, and ye bring us good tidings from Kildrummie,” exclaimed both the English earls at once, as cap in hand the esquires slowly walked up the hall, and did obeisance to their masters.

“Yet your steps are somewhat laggard, as they bring us news of victory.  By my troth, were it not utterly impossible, I could deem ye had been worsted in the strife,” continued the impatient Lancaster, while the cooler and more sagacious Hereford scanned the countenances of the esquires in silence.  “Yet and ye come not to tell of victory, why have ye come at all?”

“To beseech your lordship’s speedy return, to the camp,” replied Fitz-Ernest, after a moment’s hesitation, his cheek still flushed from his master’s words.  “There is division of purpose and action in the camp, and an ye not return and head the attack your noble selves, I fear me there is little hope of victory.”