“Not till my chamberlain attends with some clothes and necessaries, and you may call my sewer also.”
“My lord,” said Ramorny, “time presses, and preparation will but excite suspicion. Your officers will follow with the mails tomorrow. For tonight, I trust my poor service may suffice to wait on you at table and chamber.”
“Nay, this time it is thou who forgets,” said the Prince, touching the wounded arm with his walking rod. “Recollect, man, thou canst neither carve a capon nor tie a point—a goodly sewer or valet of the mouth!”
Ramorny grinned with rage and pain; for his wound, though in a way of healing, was still highly sensitive, and even the pointing a finger towards it made him tremble.
“Will your Highness now be pleased to take boat?”
“Not till I take leave of the Lord Constable. Rothsay must not slip away, like a thief from a prison, from the house of Errol. Summon him hither.”
“My Lord Duke,” said Ramorny, “it may be dangerous to our plan.”
“To the devil with danger, thy plan, and thyself! I must and will act to Errol as becomes us both.”
The earl entered, agreeable to the Prince’s summons.
“I gave you this trouble, my lord,” said Rothsay, with the dignified courtesy which he knew so well how to assume, “to thank you for your hospitality and your good company. I can enjoy them no longer, as pressing affairs call me to Falkland.”