"Nay, nay, now," replied James; "I really cannot endure to see my sovereign in such an humble situation as this—a situation so unworthy of his dignity. It is unseemly and painful to behold. I will not endure it!"
"But it is my pleasure, sirrah," said Willie, angrily and impatiently—"and that's aneuch. Sae, mak nor meddle nae mair wi't, or ye'll maybe rue't. Do ye think I want to mak a spectacle o' mysel?"
"Excuse me; but positively, sir, I must insist on your being treated with more respect. I must inform the laird of your being here." And, without waiting for any farther remonstrances on the subject from Willie, or paying any attention to his anxious calls to him to return, the disguised monarch hurried out of the apartment, and desired one of the servants of the house to inform his master that a person wished to speak to him on important business, and that he would find him in front of the house.
Having dispatched this business, James walked out, and, at a little distance, awaited the laird's appearance. On his approach—"Well, laird," said the King, "dost know me? I think thou should'st. We have seen each other before."
The person thus addressed looked silently and earnestly for some time at the disguised monarch, as if perplexed by the question; but at length eagerly and joyously exclaimed, at the same time doffing his cap or bonnet "with the most profound respect—
"I do, sir—I do. You are the king!"
"Hush, hush," said James. "Not a word of that just now. My crown's in danger, laird. There's a rival near my throne. Dost know, laird, that there's another king in your kitchen at this moment?"
"You are pleased to be merry, sire. Pray, what does your Majesty mean?" replied the laird, smiling, yet evidently at a loss to comprehend the joke.
"Why, I mean precisely what I have said, laird. There is, I repeat it, another king in your kitchen just now; and a rattling, stalwarth looking fellow he is, with a couple of very pretty girls, one on each side of him. But here is the truth of the matter, laird," continued the king, compassionating the former's perplexity—"here's a fellow, at this moment, in your kitchen, who has taken it upon him to assume my incognito, and has, in this character, already imposed upon Whinnyhill."
"The knave!" exclaimed the laird. "We must have him instantly hanged."