"No, sire," replied Nicholas; "but some one seemed to give you intimation that all is ready. Will it please you to go on?"
"Enter!" cried the voice.
"Wha speaks?" demanded the King. And, as no answer was returned, he continued—"I will not set foot in the structure. It may be a snare of Satan."
At this moment, the shutters of the windows flew open, showing that the pavilion was lighted up by many tapers within, while solemn strains of music issued from it.
"Enter!" repeated the voice.
"Have no fear, sire," said Nicholas.
"That canna be the wark o' the deil," cried James. "He does not delight in holy hymns and sweet music."
"That is a solemn dirge for the dead," observed Nicholas, as melodious voices mingled with the music.
"Weel, weel, I will go on at a' hazards," said James.
The doors flew open as the King and his attendants approached, and, as soon as they had passed through them, the valves swung back to their places.