It was about sunrise when a slow armed tread was heard approaching the king's pavilion and De Vaux had time to do no more than arise when the Knight of the Leopard entered, with deep gloom on his manly features. Richard, awaking on the instant, exclaimed:
"Speak, Sir Scot, thou comest to tell me of a vigilant watch?"
"My watch hath been neither safe, vigilant, nor honourable," said Sir Kenneth. "The banner of England has been carried off."
"And thou alive to tell it?" said Richard. "Away, it cannot be. There is not even a scratch on thy face. It is ill jesting with a King--yet I will forgive thee if thou hast lied."
"Lied, Sir King!" returned the knight with fierce emphasis. "But this also must be endured. I have spoken the truth."
"By God and St. George!" said the king with fury. "De Vaux, go view the spot. This cannot be. The man's courage is proof--it cannot be! Go speedily--or send, if--"
The King was interrupted by Sir Henry Neville, who came, breathless, to say the banner was gone, and there was a pool of blood where the banner-spear lay.
"But whom do I see here?" said Neville, his eyes suddenly resting upon Sir Kenneth.
"A traitor," said the king, seizing his curtal-axe, "whom thou shalt see die a traitor's death." And he drew back the weapon as in act to strike.
Colourless, but firm as a marble statue, the Scot stood before him, his head uncovered, his eyes cast down. The king stood for a moment prompt to strike, then lowering the weapon, exclaimed: