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How like you our kennel, most mighty
lion?"
It was the voice of the Chancellor Crichton.
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.


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