"My harness is ever ready, and like my sword, is at the service of your grace."
"But the intrigues of our traitors will blunt the edges of the sharpest swords we possess."
"You mean——"
"The malcontent nobles, and the more turbulent of our landed gentry. Can I have patience with them, when Heaven itself seems to have none, since it permits them to slay and decimate each other, in their endless feuds and quarrels?"
At this remark, the young man coloured deeply, as he thought the regent referred to the feud of his family with the Hamiltons of Preston.
"You change colour," said Arran, smiling; "believe me, I referred not to your father's ancient quarrel with my kinsman, Claude, for your father was a brave and leal Scottish man; none was there better than he, or more approved in arms, among the soldiers of James IV. He fought at Flodden. But by that blush, Fawside, I perceive you are not much of a courtier," added the regent, laughing.
"No, lord earl, though I have passed some time in the saloons of the Louvre and St. Germains; happily I am not."
"Happily?"
"Yes, my lord; kings can at all times find courtiers, but loyal subjects and true soldiers are less brittle ware."
"And you——"