‘An impartial witness ye have brought before the council! Why not examine the earl himself? if, indeed, he acknowledges any authority but border-law. It is well that the Hamiltons can right themselves with their own good swords.’
Maitland cut short his further objections by desiring Maxwell to proceed with his account of the fray, while the Queen looked up from her work as if about to expostulate, but checked herself with a half-smothered sigh.
Maxwell told his tale simply and frankly. It was obvious that the fray had originated in a brawl begun by the Hamiltons, who had insisted on forcing their way into Mistress Alison’s house. Seeing that bloodshed was unavoidable, he had hurried off to alarm the civic guard, leaving the earl’s henchman at the door. When he returned, the skirmish, as Lord James could corroborate, was at its height. The henchman could speak to what took place during the narrator’s absence; he had craved permission to bring him to Holyrood for that purpose.
His manly, straightforward evidence seemed to make a favourable impression on the council. Maitland looked up from his notes, and, glancing at the duke for approval, desired the borderer to be summoned.
Honest Dick entered the council-chamber with an undaunted front, till he caught sight of the Queen, when he blushed up to his ears, and made a profound and exceedingly awkward obeisance. Then he looked about as if in search of something, and finally stood bolt upright, like a man prepared to be ‘shot at.’
‘Your name?’ said the duke, haughtily.
Dick reflected a few moments, and then answered, with the air of one who makes an admission under protest—
‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh.’
‘Your calling?’ added the president, severely.
‘Just a rider,’ answered Dick, after another pause.