‘Never fear, friends,’ said James, kindly; ’to you this can only be matter of ransom.’

‘I fear nothing,’ sharply answered Ralf.

‘We’ll stand by you, Sir,’ said Kitson to Ralf; ’but if ever there were foul treason—­’

‘Pshaw! you ass,’ were all Percy’s thanks; for at that moment a horseman came forward from among the enemy, a gigantic form on a tall white horse, altogether a ‘dark gray man,’ the open visor revealing an elderly face, hard-featured and grim, and the shield on his arm so dinted, faded, and battered, as scarce to show the blue chief and the bleeding crowned heart; but it was no unfamiliar sight to Malcolm’s eyes, and with a slight shudder he bent his head in answer to the fierce whisper, ’Old Douglas himself!’ with which Hotspur’s son certified himself that he had the foe of his house before him.  King James, resting the point of his sword on his mailed foot, stood erect and gravely expectant; and the Scot, springing to the ground, advanced with the words, ’We greet you well, my liege, and hereby—­’ he was bending his knee as he spoke, and removing his gauntlet in preparation for the act of homage.

‘Hold, Earl Douglas,’ said James, ‘homage is vain to a captive.’

‘You are captive no longer, Sir King,’ said Earl Archibald.  ’We have long awaited this occasion, and will at once return to Scotland with you, with the arms and treasure we have gained here, and will bear down the craven Albany.’

Kitson and Trenton looked at one another and grasped their swords, as though doubting whether they ought not to cut down their king’s prisoner rather than let him be rescued; and meanwhile the cry, ‘Save King James!’ broke out on all sides, knights leapt down to tender their homage, and among the foremost Malcolm knew Sir Patrick Drummond, crying aloud, ’My lord, my lord, we have waited long for you.  Be a free king in free Scotland!  Trust us, my liege.’

‘Trust you, my friends!’ said James, deeply touched; ’I trust you with all my heart; but how could you trust me if I began with a breach of faith to the King of England?’

Ralf Percy held up his finger and nodded his head to the Yorkshire squires, who stood open-mouthed, still believing that a Scot must be false.  There was an angry murmur among the Scots, but James gazed at them undauntedly, as though to look it down.

‘Yes, to King Harry!’ he said, in his trumpet voice.  ’I belong to him, and he has trusted me as never prisoner was trusted before, nor will I betray that trust.’

‘The foul fiend take such niceties,’ muttered old Douglas; but, checking himself, he said, ’Then, Sir, give me your sword, and we’ll have you home as my prisoner, to save this your honour!’

‘Yea,’ said James, ’that is mine own, though my body be yours, and till England put me to ransom you would have but a useless captive.’

‘Sir,’ said Sir John Swinton, pressing forward, ’if my Lord of Douglas be plain-spoken, bethink you that it is no cause for casting aside this one hope of freedom that we have sought so long.  If you have the heart to strike for Scotland, this is the time.’