"Ay," murmured the king to himself, in a bitter tone. "These Ruthvens are all rebels. By----" he continued, turning to Doctor Herries, "I thought he had got some one else locked in here than his sister, and that there were more sweet words than bitter ones going on."
Dr. Herries, a coarse hard-featured man, with a club foot, shrugged his shoulders, saying, in a low voice, "Your majesty is seldom wrong in the end; but you had better not let him see all that you suspect, and give him some reason for coming."
"Oo, ay," said the king. "It had gane clean out o' my head. Weel, Alex, my bairn," he continued, in a cajoling tone, which he not unfrequently assumed when seeking to cozen some one, against whom he meditated evil, into a belief that he was well disposed towards him, "I was just bringing you this good knight here, who came this morning with letters from your mother. 'Deed, his business, it seems, is mair with your saucy titty than yoursel; but I thought it just as weel to let you know what was going on before I put they two together."
Beatrice coloured till the blood mounted over her whole forehead, but Alexander Ruthven answered somewhat sullenly, "I thank your majesty, and am well pleased to see Sir John Hume. As for my sister, she is her own mistress, and sometimes wants to be mine, too."
"There now," said the king, laughing, "the bairn's in the dorts; but what he says is true enough, as Sir John may find out some day. She'd fain manage us all. So now I shall leave you three together, for I've got a world of work to do. A crowned heed is no a light ane."
Thus saying, he retired with his club-footed favourite, taking a look back at the door to see the expression of the faces he left behind; but well knowing his majesty's habits, all parties guarded their looks till he was gone, and the door shut. Even then they were silent till the heavy step of Doctor Herries was heard crossing the room below, for the king's propensity to eaves-dropping was no secret in Stirling Castle.
As soon as they were assured that he was gone, Sir John Hume, even before he exchanged greetings with her he loved, turned to young Ruthven, exclaiming, "In Heaven's name, Alex, what is the matter with the king?"
"I don't know," answered Alexander Ruthven. "He does not make me the keeper of his secrets."
"But this secret somehow affects you," replied Hume; "and it is worth looking to, my friend, for James's enmities are very deadly, and his fears often as much so."
"What makes you think that he has any ill will towards me, Hume?" asked the young man, who, if the truth must be told, had been not a little alarmed by all that had taken place.