The young King came running from his place and threw his arms about the Earl’s neck.

“I am the King,” he cried; “not one of you shall touch or hurt my cousin Douglas!”

“Stand back, James,” said the tutor Livingston; “the Douglas is a traitor, and you shall never reign while he rules.  He and his brother must be tried for treason.  They have claimed the King’s throne, and usurped his authority.”

Sholto MacKim turned about.  In all that threatening array of armed men no friendly eye met his, and none of all he had trusted drew a blade for the Douglas.  Sholto stood calculating the chances.  To die like a man was easy, but how to die to some purpose seemed more difficult.  He saw the King with his arm about the neck of William Douglas, who remained quietly in his place with a pale but assured countenance.

It was Sholto’s only chance.  With his left hand he seized the young King by the collar of his doublet, and set the point of his sword to his back between the shoulder-blades.

“Now,” he cried, “let a man lay hand on my Lord Douglas and I will slay the King!”

At this there was great consternation, and but for fear of Sholto’s keeping his word half a score would have rushed forward to the assistance of the boy.  The scream of a woman from some concealed portal showed that the Queen Mother was waiting to witness the downfall of the mighty house which, as she had been taught, alone threatened her boy’s throne.

Sholto’s arm was already drawn back for the thrust, when the voice of the Earl of Douglas was heard.  He had risen to his feet, and now stood easy and careless as ever, with his thumb in the blue silken sash which girt his waist.

“Sholto,” he said calmly, “you forget your place.  Let the King go instantly, and ask his Majesty’s pardon.  Set your sword again in its sheath.  I am your lord.  I dubbed you knight.  Do as I command you.”

Most unwillingly Sholto did as he was bidden, and the King, instead of withdrawing, placed himself still closer to William of Douglas.

“And now,” cried the Earl, facing the array of armed men who thronged the banquet-hall, “what would ye with the Douglas?  Do ye mean my death, as by the Bull’s Head here on the table ye would have me believe?”

“For black treason do we apprehend you, Earl of Douglas,” creaked the voice of the Chancellor, still speaking from behind his array of men-at-arms, “and because you have set yourself above the King.  But we are no butchers, and trial shall ye have by your peers.”

“And who in this place are the peers of the Earl of Douglas?” said the young man, haughtily.

“I will not bandy words with you, my Lord Douglas.  You are overmastered.  Yield yourself, therefore, as indeed you must without remeed.  Deliver your weapons and submit; ’tis our will.”