“’Tis well, ’tis very well,” he said.  “These wild Scots would tempt us to the utmost, and they shall be satisfied.  Ah! my lords of Buchan and Fife, give ye good morrow.  What think ye of these doings amidst your countrymen, bethink ye they have done well?”

“Well, as relates to their own ruin, aye, very well, my liege; they act but as would every follower of the murderer Bruce,” replied Buchan, harshly and sullenly.

“They are mad, stark mad, your highness; the loss of a little blood may bring them to their senses,” rejoined the more volatile Fife.

“And is it thus ye think, base, villainous traitors as ye are, leagued with the rebel band in his coronation?  My Lord of Chester, attach them of high treason.”

“What means your grace?” exclaimed both noblemen at once, but in very different accents, “Of what are we charged, and who dare make this lying accusation?”

“Are ye indeed so ignorant?” replied the king, jibingly.  “Know ye not that Isabella, Countess of Buchan, and representative, in the absence of her brother, of the earldom of Fife, hath so dared our displeasure as to place the crown on the rebel’s head, and vow him homage?”

“Hath she indeed dared so to do?  By heaven, she shall rue this!” burst wrathfully from Buchan, his swarthy countenance assuming a yet swarthier aspect.  “My liege, I swear to thee, by the Holy Cross, I knew no more of this than did your grace.  Thinkest thou I would aid and abet the cause of one not merely a rebel and a traitor, but the foul murderer of a Comyn—­one at whose hands, by the sword’s point, have I sworn to demand my kinsman, and avenge him?”

“And wherefore did Isabella of Buchan take upon herself this deed, my liege, but because the only male descendant of her house refused to give his countenance or aid to this false earl?  Because Duncan of Fife was neither a rebel himself nor gave his aid to rebels, On the honor of a knight, my liege, I know naught of this foul deed.”

“It may be, it may be,” answered Edward, impatiently.  “We will see to it, and condemn ye not unheard; but in times like these, when traitors and rebels walk abroad and insult us to our very teeth, by St. Edward, our honor, our safety demands the committal of the suspected till they be cleared.  Resign your swords to my Lord of Chester, and confine yourselves to your apartments.  If ye be innocent, we will find means to repay you for the injustice we have done; if not, the axe and the block shall make short work.  Begone!”

Black as a thunderbolt was the scowl that lowered over the brow of Buchan, as he sullenly unclasped his sword and gave it into the Lord Constable’s hand; while with an action of careless recklessness the Earl of Fife followed his example, and they retired together, the one scowling defiance on all who crossed his path, the other jesting and laughing with each and all.

“I would not give my best falcon as pledge for the Countess of Buchan’s well-doing, an she hath done this without her lord’s connivance,” whispered the Prince of Wales to one of his favorites, with many of whom he had been conversing, in a low voice, as if his father’s wrathful accents were not particularly grateful to his ear.