To return to our tale. Little more than an hour's walking having brought James to Braehead, he entered the house, which was one scene of mirth and festivity from one end to the other; and, uninvited, and, we may add, unopposed too, walked into the kitchen, where a number of country girls and their sweethearts were assembled, to share in the good cheer and jollity of the evening.
On entering the apartment, the king's attention was instantly attracted by a conspicuous figure seated at the farther end, and very enviably placed between two uncommonly pretty girls, whom he was entertaining with a volubility of tongue and noisy glee that seemed to afford them great delight, and to have carried him far into their good graces. But the influence of the exuberant spirits of this joyous but somewhat obstreperous person, was by no means confined to his two fair supporters. He had, by the time James entered, evidently secured that pre-eminence which belongs to the character usually known by the title of the cock of the company. He was, in short, obviously in undisputed possession of the popular voice; and there was no doubt was considered by every one there as first fiddle of the evening.
This jovial person, we need hardly say, was no other than our friend Willie; and James, as he eyed him, at once guessed that he was the person who had done him the honour of representing him at Whinnyhill.
Satisfied of this, the disguised monarch stole quietly round to where Willie was seated, and whispered in his ear this courteous inquiry—
"I say, friend, who the devil are you?"
"And, I say," exclaimed Willie, looking hard at the querist, and by no means making any secret of his inquiry—"Wha the deevil are ye?"
"Just what you see me," replied James—"going about the country seeking a living wherever I think it likely I may pick it up."
"Nae harm in that ava, freen," said Willie. "Puir bodies maun leeve some way or anither. They're no gaun to die at a dike side if they can get a mouthfu' for the askin."
"Surely not, surely not, friend," replied James. "But, I say," he added—and now drawing Willie close to him, in order that the communication he was about to make might be inaudible to those beside him—"do you think I don't know you, sir, notwithstanding your disguise? If you do, you are mistaken. I know you well, sir. You are the king!"
"And what though I be, sir?" said Willie, boldly, but secretly surprised to find royalty thus again thrust upon him. "What's that to you? But, I say," he added, and now whispering in his turn, "as ye value yer head, mum's the word aboot that 'enow; for I'm in very guid quarters whar I am, and hae nae wish to gang amang the gentry. Sae keep a calm sough aboot it, or ye may fare the waur."