Christmas went by quietly and peacefully, and the New Year came, and still the King lingered in Perth.  The winter days passed pleasantly in reading, walking, and tennis-playing; the evenings in chess-playing, music, and story-telling.

But one night, as James was chatting and laughing with the Queen and her ladies before going to bed, a great noise was heard.  The sound of many feet, the clatter of armor mingled with wild cries was borne to the quiet room, and through the high windows flashed the light of many torches.

At once the King guessed that he was betrayed.  The Queen and her ladies ran hastily to the door to shut it.  But the locks had been broken and the bolts carried away, so that it could not be fastened.

In vain James looked round.  Way of escape there was none.  Alone, unarmed, he could neither guard the ladies nor save himself.  Crying to them to keep fast the door as best they might, he sprang to the window, hoping by his great strength to wrench the iron bars from their places and escape that way.  But, alas, they were so strongly set in the stone that he could not move them, “for which cause the King was ugly astonied."*

The Dethe of the Kynge of Scottis.

Then turning to the fire James seized the tongs, “and under his feet he mightily brast up a blank of the chamber,"* and leaping down into the vault beneath he let the plank fall again into its place.  By this vault the King might have escaped, for until three days before there had been a hole leading from it to the open air.  But as he played tennis his balls often rolled into this hole and were lost.  So he had ordered it to be built up.

The same.

There was nothing, then, for the King to do but wait.  Meanwhile the noise grew louder and louder, the traitors came nearer and nearer.  One brave lady named Catherine Douglas, hoping to keep them out, and so save the King, thrust her arm through the iron loops on the door where the great bolt should have been.  But against the savage force without, her frail, white arm was useless.  The door was burst open.  Wounded and bleeding, Catherine Douglas was thrown aside and the wild horde stormed into the room.

It was not long ere the King’s hiding-place was found, and one of the traitors leaped down beside him with a great knife in his hand.  “And the King, doubting him for his life, caught him mightily by the shoulders, and with full great violence cast him under his feet.  For the King was of his person and stature a man right manly strong."*

The same.

Seeing this, another traitor leaped down to help his fellow.  “And the King caught him manly by the neck, both under him that all a long month after men might see how strongly the King had holden them by the throats."*

The same.

Fiercely the King struggled with his enemies, trying to wrench their knives from them so that he might defend himself.  But it was in vain.  Seeing him grow weary a third traitor, the King’s greatest enemy, Robert Grahame, leaped down too into the vault, “with a horrible and mortal weapon in his hand, and therewithal he smote him through the body, and therewithal the good King fell down."*