When Sir Walter Stewart returned home that evening, Cochran told him that he could be his guest no longer, seeing that he had received certain communications from his Majesty, which demanded his immediate departure from Drummin for the court. Sir Walter was by no means much afflicted at this intelligence. He exerted himself, however, to do Cochran all manner of hospitality, and to shew him every kindness, and every mark of respect in his power, ere he went. He arose early next morning, therefore, to perform the last duties of a host to a parting guest, and, after Cochran and his escort were mounted, he walked by the side of the architect’s horse, talking with him by way of civil convoy, for more than a mile of the road, as in those days it was the usual custom of all hosts to do. As they were going up a little hill above Drummin, called the Calton, they espied a hawk perched upon the very top of a tall tree. Sir Walter had a birding piece in his hand, with which he had been for some time wont to practise.
“There is a fine fair shot for thee to try thy new-fangled weapon against, Sir Walter,” said Cochran, pointing to the hawk; “I wager thee five gold pieces that thou canst not bring him down.”
“The distance is great,” said Sir Walter, pointing his piece at the bird; “but I accept your wager.”
“He is safe,” said Cochran.
“No!” cried Sir Walter exultingly, after discharging his piece, the bullet from which brought the bird fluttering to the ground. “He’s gone, an’ he were a king!”
“A good shot, truly!” said Cochran, treasuring up Sir Walter’s careless expression for his own future use and purpose. “Marry, but that is a dangerous piece of thine, Sir Knight. Take good care how you handle it, else may it perchance do thee a mischief. But I will keep thee no longer trudging thus by my horse’s side; so again I bid thee commend me to thy lady.” And so saying, he rode away more abruptly than might have very well beseemed any man of better breeding.
Cochran finished his journey to Stirling, where the King then was, and immediately presented himself at court. He was gratified by the reception he met with from James, who manifested no little joy at the return of his creature. But all mankind are misers, when taking account of the favours of the great, on whom they depend. Unmindful of the large ones they receive themselves, they look only with envious eyes on those, however small, that may be bestowed upon others. Thus it was with the unrighteous Haman, and thus it was with Cochran; for, all the kindness which the King showed to him, in this his first interview, became as nothing, when weighed against the eagerness which his Majesty manifested in his inquiries after Sir Walter Stewart. These were as gall and verjuice to Cochran. In vain did he try to make trifling and oblique insinuations against the Knight of Stradawn, his royal master was in no humour to listen to them at the time, and they were each of them in succession lost to his ear, in the eagerness with which he put his next question. James put question after question as to all the particulars of his occupation at Drummin, as well as regarding the progress of the work, and it was only when he had come down to the day of his departure, that the insidious favourite contrived to catch the royal attention, by relating the story of the birding-piece.
“Sir Walter Stewart is undoubtedly a pretty gentleman, and of very various accomplishment,” said Cochran, “Aye, and few know his qualifications better than he does himself.”
“He knows not his own accomplishments better than we do,” replied the King, in rather a dissatisfied tone.
“Pardon me,” replied Cochran, obsequiously, “I never ventured to say that he was vain of them. But your Majesty’s perception and judgment are unrivalled. Yet much as you have seen and observed of Sir Walter Stewart, I may venture to question, whether you have chanced to witness aught of his great skill and marvellous accuracy of eye in shooting with a birding-piece?”