Seven days had now elapsed since the battle of Sauchie had been fought; yet, in all that time, no tidings had been heard of James; for the poor miller, Beaton, had not yet dared to relate the terrible scene he had witnessed; and those who could have given the best information, viz., Gray and Stirling, stood by the prince's council board, exchanging those deep smiles that villains can only read.
"Every where we have offered bribes to those who may bring us sure tidings of your royal father," said Angus, "by twang of trumpet at every burghcross; I have proffered brave propines for drinking, and many a rich largess, yet no news hath come in."
"Rumours are current that the king has been assassinated," said the Lord Hailes, bluntly.
The young prince grew ghastly pale, and started with horror at the remark.
"By God's love and the Virgin's purity, I pray you, do not say so!" he exclaimed, imploringly.
"By both, I assure you, it is said so," returned the coarse, unfeeling noble.
"Rumour ever lies," said Sir Patrick Gray, angrily; "for on one hand 'tis said he has fled to England—on the other, to Holland; and there are many who maintain that he is on board the ships of that contumacious loon, old Largo, whose boats plied at the Craigward the live-long battle day, ferrying over the wounded and the fugitive."
"From my soul, I thank you for the hope, my good Sir Patrick," said the prince, mournfully.
"Until the king's flight or safety—his death or abdication are known, my lords, we can decide on nothing," said the constable.
"Save that we must keep together in arms," added Angus, "till Parliament meets, and we are voted scathless for the raid at Sauchie."