“Sir, as it appears you are acquainted with our language, why did you not reply to the question I put to you?”
“Because I would have you know it was not the proper kind of question to ask the like of me. I am a descendant of kings.”
“Well, as far as that goes, I am a descendant of kings myself, though sorry I should be to defend all their actions.”
“Your family only began with Robert the Bruce; mine was old ere he came to the throne.”
“That may well be, still you must admit that what Robert lacked in ancestry, he furnished forth in ability.”
“But the Clan MacNab defeated him at the battle of Del Rhi.”
“True, with some assistance, which you ignore, from Alexander of Argyll. However, if this discussion is to become a competition in history, for the benefit of our ignorant courtiers, I may be allowed to add that my good ancestor, Robert, did not forget the actions of the MacNabs at Del Rhi, and later overran their country, dismantled their fortresses, leaving the clan in a more sane and chastened condition than that in which he found it. But what has all this to do with your coming storming into a peaceable town like Stirling?”
“In truth, your majesty,” whispered Sir David Lyndsay, “I think they must have come to replenish their wardrobe, and in that they are not a moment too soon.”
“I came,” said the chief, who had not heard this last remark, “because of the foray you have mentioned. I came because Robert the Bruce desolated our country.”
“By my good sword!” cried James, “speaking as one king to another, your revenge is somewhat belated, a lapse of two centuries should have outlawed the debt. Did you expect then to take Stirling with twenty men?”