"Yes—yes; there are the Grey Sisters at Dundee, all of whom are pious, good, and kind, and know me well."
"Enough, thou cunning minx, enough! the superior of those Claresses is aunt to Robert Barton, the skipper's son; nay, I see how the wind sets, as he would say. 'Tis a conspiracy against me," added the old lord, furiously; "but let all plotters gang warily, for by the arm of St. Fillan I'll have a deep revenge and a sure one! But hush now, lassie, for here cometh the Admiral Wood and his English prisoners, with Margaret—my daughter Margaret, as I am a living man!"
"And two spruce English damsels," said Hailes, who like Home was astonished on beholding Falconer and Barton, both of whom accompanied the admiral.
"On my soul, this Laird of Largo hath no small assurance, to bring all this rabble of fellows into the prince's presence," said the Earl of Angus, knitting his brows as he surveyed the numerous group surrounding Sir Andrew Wood, whose friends were all in armour, and who had brought with him Willie Wad and Cuddie Clewline, his coxswain; while Edmund Howard, conspicuous by his noble bearing and rich costume, was followed by John o'Lynne, Dick Selby, his tall gunner, and the principal officers of the captured ships; all of whom were without swords or armour, and were graciously received by the sad and thoughtful prince—now James IV.,—after he had sprung forward, and heedless of the assembled crowd, knelt down with that enthusiastic gallantry for which he was so celebrated, and kissed both the hands of Lady Margaret Drummond. He then placed her by his side, where her sisters hung around her neck.
James then asked Howard with something of sternness, "how she came to be found on board of the Harry, and why, in time of truce, such war was levied on the Scottish people?"
Howard, who had beheld this meeting with a keen emotion that amounted almost to agony, replied with grave but respectful firmness:
"I can assure your majesty, that in the matter of having this noble dame on board my ship I shall answer no questions, and though you should tear me limb from limb, I would rather die than betray the secrets of my royal master!"
"Hah—is it so? then here, as usual, have been at work dark England's cursed gold and Scotland's ready treason," said the young king, striking his spurred heel on the floor; "but a time shall come for unravelling all this! Welcome, brave Andrew Wood, my dear dead father's firmest friend; his first and last, his noblest and most true!"
A tear came zigzag down the furrows of the old mariner's face as the young monarch spoke, and he answered in a broken voice,—
"I have ever striven to do my duty to Scotland and her king, like a sailor and a man, and so God has blessed and prospered me. Weel, weel, it's a' owre noo; our gude king is, I doubt not, safely moored in a blessed anchorage, and lest he may not lie in the smoothest riding, I will lay out a thousand crowns in masses for his soul in Largo Kirk and at Mary's Altar in Leith, just to make his anchor hold. Let us hope that the evil currents, the rocks and shoals he came through in life will all be taken into account aloft, when he comes to reckon up his variation and leeway, and shall secure him everlasting peace in the blessed latitudes above; for a braver or a better man never faced wind or water, shot or steel! Well fare thy soul, King James; in thee puir auld Andrew Wood has lost a kind and faithful master, such as he never more may see!"