"He was a tall man," replied she, "dressed in a lang grey cloak, which was bound round the middle by a blue belt. I observed a deep scar on his right cheek, and his left ee was like a white grape."
This description, which was exactly that of James's night-visiter, came upon him like the ghost of his murdered father. He fainted. Lord Gray ran to his assistance; and, as he supported him, the dagger fell out from among the folds of the robes. James remained insensible for some time. As he recovered, his eye fell upon the bloodstained instrument, that was now in the hands of Gray; and, stretching out his right hand, he convulsively seized it, took it from the baron, and again secreted it in the folds of his robes. His manner was wild and confused.
"Take away that woman," he cried; "she has no more to say; and if she had, I am not in a condition to hear it. She talks strange things about a man that hath a gash on his cheek and an eye like a grape. I cannot listen to these things. The words burn my brain. She must be a sorceress. I shall have her sent to the stake."
"She is an honest dame, your majesty," said the other courtiers, "and beareth an excellent reputation where she resideth."
"Thou liest!" cried the king. "Take her away! take her away! I must be alone. These windows are not darkened enough. Hath the smith forged my penance-belt? See to it, Gray. My soul crieth for pain, as he who hath been burned crieth for fire to cure the pain of fire. I did not lose my dagger at Sauchie. It was a lie forged by a renegade. I have it still, and will show it thee on the morrow. Let me rest. This brain requireth repose."
The lords hurried away the witness, and left the king to his meditations. He was seized with one of those extraordinary fits of terror and remorse that afterwards visited him at regular intervals. When the fit left him, he summoned up courage to publish an account of the person who killed the king, and offered a large reward for his apprehension. In this description, he followed the account of the woman as well as his own experience; the fearful marks were set forth with great care; and no one doubted but that an individual, so strangely pointed out by nature, as differing from other men, would be instantly seized and brought before the throne. While this hope was vigorous, the king was in misery. He feared a meeting with the mysterious being who had tracked him in his rebellious course. Every sound roused him, and made him tremble. But the time passed, and the hope died. No such person was ever seen or heard of; and James was left, during the remainder of his life, to the terrors of a conscience that never slept. We do not pretend to reconcile the conduct of this mysterious personage, in first dissuading the prince from opposing his father, and then killing the latter with the former's dagger; but James himself put a construction upon it which accorded with the state of his mind and feelings. He wore around him, ever after, an iron chain, as penance for being the cause of the death of his father—conceiving that Providence followed that extraordinary course we have detailed for punishing him for his filial disobedience. Some say the same figure appeared to him before he went to Flodden. A reference to our forthcoming story, "The Death of James IV.," may clear up this point. The legends are clearly connected, and make one history. They are, however, both equally mysterious and obscure. In both, the figures boded for good, and yet evil came. They were fearful demonstrations of a secret power, that worketh "in strange ways." Inscrutable at the time, the mystery has never been cleared up. We have done something—yet how much remains in darkness!