Robert Bruce drew his black Geneva gown about him, and taking his little Bible and his oak staff in his hand he went out. As he stood forth upon his step, he was hailed with shouts of joy and rejoicing.
'Hearken Maister Bruce! Hear the minister! God and the Kirk! Doon wi' Jeemie Fat-Breeks!'
And the Blue Blanket wavered and waggled, being borne this way and that by the press. All about the skirts of the crowd, and down the closes angry drums were beating, and a hundred idle 'prentices thundered on great folk's doors and garred the window panes rattle on the causeway—which was a sin when glass was so dear, and to be seen in so few places besides the citizen houses of the great.
'Men of Edinburgh,' cried Bruce, 'hear your minister. Wherefore this tumult? I bid you to depart quietly to your homes. We have a difference with the King, it is true; but let us who are the servants of God and of the Kirk of Scotland settle our own affairs with the King. What is your concern in the matter?'
But the more he spoke of the King the more loud grew the tumult.
'God and the Kirk! God and the Kirk!' they cried, and the Blue Blanket waved higher than ever, being held up by one man standing upon the shoulders of other two.
'Ay, ay, even so; it is a good cry,' said the minister; 'but it would set you better to be a little more ready to obey both God and the Kirk at other times. The most part of you know not for what cause ye are come together. Ye want to roll your minister's head in the dust—'
'No, no!' cried the throng; 'we will keep you safe, or know the reason why.'
'Depart—scatter instantly to your firesides!' cried Bruce. 'And so ye will the better serve the Kirk of Scotland and me, her unworthy servant.'
And with this he motioned to them with his hands, dismissing them. So great was his power that they went, scattering like peet reek on a windy day. In a minute or two there was not one of them to be seen on the street. The minister and I were left alone.