“I have come promptly in answer to your majesty’s call,” said Armstrong, politely removing his bonnet, but making no motion to pay further deference to the King of Scotland.
“It gives me great pleasure to see you,” replied the king, suavely. “You travel with a large escort, Mr. Armstrong?”
“Yes, your majesty, I am a sociable man and I like good company. The more stout fellows that are at my back, the better I am pleased.”
“In this respect we are very much alike, Mr. Armstrong, as you will admit if you but cast your eyes to the rear of your little company.”
At this, Johnny Armstrong violated a strict rule of royal etiquette and turned the back of his head to his king. He saw the forest alive with mounted men, their circle closing in upon him. He muttered the word: “Trapped!” and struck the spurs into his horse’s flank. The stung steed pranced in a semi-circle answering his master’s rein, but the fence of mounted steel was complete, every drawn sword a picket. Again Armstrong, laughing uneasily, faced the king, who still stood motionless.
“Your majesty has certainly the advantage of me as far as escort is concerned.”
“It would seem so,” replied James. “You travel with twoscore of men; I with a thousand.”
“I have ever been a loyal subject of your majesty,” said Armstrong, moistening his dry lips. “I hope I am to take no scathe for coming promptly and cordially to welcome your majesty to my poor district.”
“You will be better able to answer your own question when you have replied to a few of mine. Have you ever met me before, Mr. Armstrong?”