‘Now,’ said James to his English friends; and therewith, sword in hand, he moved with a steady but swift stride towards the camp, nor did Douglas attempt pursuit; some of the other horsemen hovered between, and Patrick Drummond, with a puzzled face, kept near on foot.  So they proceeded till they reached a bank and willow hedge, through which horses could hardly have pursued them.

On the other side of this, James turned round and said, ’Thanks, Sir Knight; I suppose I may not hope that you will become a follower of the knight adventurer.’

’I cannot fight under the English banner, my liege.  Elsewhere I would fellow you to the death.’

‘This is no time to show your error,’ said James; ’and I therefore counsel you to come no farther.  The English will be pricking forth in search of us:  so I will but thank you for your loyal aid.’

‘I entreat you, Sir,’ cried Patrick, ’not to believe that we meant this matter to go as it has done!  It had long been our desire—­of all of us, that is, save my Lord Buchan’s retainers—­to find you and release you; but never did we deem that Lord Douglas would have dared to conduct matters thus.’

’You would be little the better for me did Lord Douglas bring me back on his own terms,’ said James, smiling.  ’No, no; when I go home, it shall be as a free king, able to do justice to all alike; and for that I am content to bide my time, and trust to such as you to back me when it comes.’

‘And with all my heart, Sir,’ said Patrick.  ’Would that you were where I could do so now.  Ah! laddie,’ to Malcolm; ’ye’re in good hands.  My certie, I kenned ye but by your voice!  Ye’re verily grown into a goodly ship after all, and ye stood as brave as the rest.  My poor father would have been fain to see this day!’

Malcolm flushed to the ears; somehow Patrick’s praise was not as pleasant to him as he would have expected, and he only faltered, ‘You know—­’

’I ken but what Johnnie Swinton brought me in a letter frae the Abbot of Coldingham, that my father—­the saints be with him!—­had been set on and slain by yon accursed Master of Albany—­would that his thrapple were in my grip!—­that he had sent you southwards to the King, and that your sister was in St. Abbs.  Is it so?’

Malcolm had barely time to make a sign of affirmation, when the King hurried him on.  ’I grieve to balk you of your family tidings, but delay will be ill for one or other of us; so fare thee well, Sir Patrick, till better times.’

He shook the knight’s hand as he spoke, cut short his protestations, and leapt down the bank, saying in a low voice, as he stretched out his hand and helped Malcolm down after him, ’He would have known me again for your guest if we had stood many moments longer; he looked hard at me as it was; and neither in England nor Scotland may that journey of mine be blazed abroad.’

Malcolm was on the whole rather relieved; he could not help feeling guilty towards Patrick, and unless he could have full time for explanation, he preferred not falling in with him.