“There was a follower of thine own there,” continued the King—“a man of Belial, whom I will have brought to condign punishment.”
“I have no follower, to my knowledge, capable of deserving your Highness’s displeasure,” answered the Prince.
“I will have no evasions, boy. Where wert thou on St. Valentine’s Eve?”
“It is to be hoped that I was serving the good saint, as a man of mould might,” answered the young man, carelessly.
“Will my royal nephew tell us how his master of the horse was employed upon that holy eve?” said the Duke of Albany.
“Speak, David; I command thee to speak,” said the King.
“Ramorny was employed in my service, I think that answer may satisfy my uncle.”
“But it will not satisfy me,” said the angry father. “God knows, I never coveted man’s blood, but that Ramorny’s head I will have, if law can give it. He has been the encourager and partaker of all thy numerous vices and follies. I will take care he shall be so no more. Call MacLouis, with a guard.”
“Do not injure an innocent man,” interposed the Prince, desirous at every sacrifice to preserve his favourite from the menaced danger: “I pledge my word that Ramorny was employed in business of mine, therefore could not be engaged in this brawl.”
“False equivocator that thou art!” said the King, presenting to the Prince a ring, “behold the signet of Ramorny, lost in the infamous affray! It fell into the hands of a follower of the Douglas, and was given by the Earl to my brother. Speak not for Ramorny, for he dies; and go thou from my presence, and repent the flagitious counsels which could make thee stand before me with a falsehood in thy mouth. Oh, shame, David—shame! as a son thou hast lied to thy father, as a knight to the head of thy order.”