"They deem that a preponderance of the royal party—strictly so called—though we are all Royalists—would be contrary to the true interests of Scotland, and to the welfare of the Kirk."
"Ah, I see!" exclaimed the king. "The Committee of the Kirk of Scotland have troubled their consciences—meddlesome fools that they are! But you must keep your men in good humour, Lesley. They must fight this battle. Assure them that I am a zealous partisan of the Covenant, and that when I ascend the throne I will ratify all the conditions imposed upon me."
"Humph!" exclaimed Lesley. "I may give them these assurances, but they will not believe me. So critical do I consider the position, that if I dared to offer your majesty a counsel, it would be to return to Scotland without hazarding an engagement."
"Return to Scotland!—never!" exclaimed Charles, indignantly. "How dare you make a proposition so dishonouring to me, Lesley. I have not advanced thus far into my kingdom to go back again without a blow."
"I knew my advice would be distasteful to your majesty, but I deemed it my duty to give it."
"No more!" cried the king. "Quell this mutinous spirit in your men, Lesley—quell it, by whatever means you can. Mark well what I say, and fail not to repeat it. When we have routed the rebels—and we shall rout them—those who have fought best for me shall receive the highest reward."
Before Lesley could make any reply, Pitscottie approached his majesty.
"Where are your Highlanders, colonel?" demanded Charles.
"Drawn up in the college green, sire. I await your orders to march them to the place of Muster."
"Have they heard that Cromwell is at hand?"