"If I remember rightly, alone, your grace. No, by my faith, there was a page with him!"
"A page—ha! and what manner of man was he?"
"Man! your highness, say rather a puny stripling, with far more of the woman about him than the man."
"Ha!" again uttered the king; "looked he so weakly—did thy fury permit such keen remark?"
"Not at that time, your highness; but he was, with Gloucester, compelled to witness the execution of this black traitor, and he looked white, statue-like, and uttered a shriek, forsooth, likely to scare back the villain's soul even as it took flight. Gloucester cared for the dainty brat, as if he had been a son of your highness, not a page in his household, for he lifted him up in his arms, and bore him out of the crowd."
"Humph!" said Edward again, in a tone likely to have excited curiosity in any mind less obtuse on such matters than that of the Scottish earl. "And thou sayest," he added, after some few minutes pause, "this daring traitor, so lately a man, would tell thee no more than that thy daughter was his wife, and in safety—out of thy reach?"
Buchan answered in the affirmative.
"And thou hast not the most distant idea where he hath concealed her?"
"None, your highness."
"Then I will tell thee, sir earl; and if thou dost not feel inclined to dash out thine own brains with vexation at letting thy prey so slip out of thy grasp, thou art not the man I took thee for," and Edward fixed his eyes on his startled companion with a glance at once keen and malicious.