That sturdy youth came to the door of his pavilion half-dressed as he had lain down, yawning and stretching reluctantly, for he had been on duty all night perfecting the arrangements for besieging the town.

“James—­James,” cried his father, catching sight of his favourite son rubbing sleepily his mass of crisp hair, “what’s this that I hear?  That you and William are in rebellion and are defying the power o’ the anointed king—?”

At this moment the footman undid the girths of his horse, which, being apparently well used to the operation, stood still with its feet planted wide apart.  Then they ran quickly round to the side towards which the swaying bulk threatened to fall, the saddle slipped, and, like a top-heavy forest tree, James the Gross subsided into the arms of his attendants, who, straining and panting, presently set him on his feet upon the blazoned royal foot-cloth at the threshold of the pavilion.

Almost he had fallen backwards when he saw the use to which his daring sons had put the emblem of royal authority.

“Guid save us a’, laddies,” he cried, staggering across the flag into the tent, “ken ye what ye do?  The royal banner o’ the King o’ Scots—­to mak’ a floor-clout o’!  Sirce, sirce, in three weeks I shall be as childless as the Countess o’ Douglas is this day.”

“That,” said William Douglas, coldly, indicating with his finger the trampled cloth, “is not the banner of Scotland, but only that of the Seneschal Stewarts.  The King of Scots is but a puling brat, and they who usurp his name are murderous hounds whose necks I shall presently stretch with the rogue’s halter!”

Young James Douglas had set an oaken folding chair for his father at the upper end of the pavilion, and into this James the Gross fell rather than seated himself.

His sons William and James continued to stand before him, as was the dutiful habit of the time.  Their father recovered his breath before beginning to speak.

“What’s this—­what’s this I hear?” he exclaimed testily, “is it true that ye are in flat rebellion against the lawful authority of the king?  Laddies, laddies, ye maun come in wi’ me to his excellence the Chancellor and make instanter your obedience.  Ye are young and for my sake he will surely overlook this.  I will speak with him.”

“Father,” said William Douglas, with a cold firmness in his voice, “we are here to punish the murderers of our cousins.  We shall indeed enter the guilty city, but it will be with fire and sword.”

“Aye,” cried rollicking, headstrong James, “and we will roast the Crichton on a spit and hang that smug traitor, Tutor Livingston, over the walls of David’s Tower, a bonny ferlie for his leman’s wonder!”

There came a cunning look into the small pig’s eyes of James the Gross.

“Na, na, foolish laddies, thae things will ye no do.  Mind ye not the taunts and scorns that the Earl—­the late Earl o’ Douglas that is—­put upon us a’?  Think on his pride and vainglory, whilk Scripture says shall be brocht low.  Think in especial how this righteous judgment that has fallen on him and on his brother has cleared our way to the Earldom.”