A Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barr (best thriller novels to read txt) 📖

hereabout?" asked the king of the man who had been prisoner longest.

"Every inch of it."

"Can you guide us safely to the north in the darkness?"

"Oh, yes, once I am down by the stream."

"Then," said the king, "go down by the stream. When you are on firm footing say no word, but shake the rope. If you prove a true guide to us this night we will pay you well."

"I shall be well paid with my liberty," replied the prisoner, crawling cautiously over the stone sill and disappearing in the darkness. The cobbler held the taut line in his hand. No man spoke, they hardly seemed to breathe until the cobbler said:

"He's safe. Your majesty should go next."

"The captain is the last to leave the ship," said the king; "over you go, Flemming." After the cobbler, Sir David descended, followed by the king; and they found at the bottom of the ravine some yards of line to spare.

Their adventures through that wild night and the next day, until they came to a village where they could purchase horses, form a story in themselves.

When the king reached Stirling, and was dressed once more in a costume more suited to his station than that which had been torn by the brambles of the Border, he called to him the chief minister of his realm.

"You will arrest immediately," he said, "Cockburn of Henderland, and Adam Scott of Tushielaw, and have them beheaded."

"Without trial, your majesty?" asked the minister in amazement.

"Certainly not without trial, but see that the trial is as short as possible. Their crime is treason; the witnesses as many as you like to choose from our last council meeting. I love and adhere to the processes of law, but see that there is no mistake about the block being at the end of your trial." The minister made a note of this and awaited further instructions. "Place the Earl of Bothwell in the strongest room that Edinburgh Castle has vacant. Imprison Lord Maxwell and Lord Home and the Lairds of Fairniherst, Johnston and Buccleuch, in whatever stronghold is most convenient. Let these orders be carried out as speedily as possible."

The next man called into the royal presence was Sir Donald Sinclair.

"Have you five hundred mounted men ready for the road, Sir Donald?"

"Yes, your majesty, a thousand if you want them."

"Very well, a thousand I shall have, and I shall ride with you to the Border."

Nevertheless, when the king came to the inn where he had been captured, there were but twenty troopers with him. Sir Donald was the spokesman on that occasion. He said to the landlord, whose roving eye was taking count of the number of horses,--

"Go to Johnny Armstrong and tell him that the king, with twenty mounted men at his back, commands his presence here, and see that he comes quickly."

Johnny was not slow in replying to the invitation, and forty troopers rode behind him. The king sat on his horse, a little in advance of his squadron. As a mounted man, James looked well, and there was but little resemblance between him and the unfortunate drover, who had been taken prisoner at that spot two short weeks before.

"I have come promptly in answer to your majesty's call," said Armstrong, politely removing his bonnet, but making no motion to pay further deference to the King of Scotland.

"It gives me great pleasure to see you," replied the king, suavely. "You travel with a large escort, Mr. Armstrong?"

"Yes, your majesty, I am a sociable man and I like good company. The more stout fellows that are at my back, the better I am pleased."

"In this respect we are very much alike, Mr. Armstrong, as you will admit if you but cast your eyes to the rear of your little company."

At this, Johnny Armstrong violated a strict rule of royal etiquette and turned the back of his head to his king. He saw the forest alive with mounted men, their circle closing in upon him. He muttered the word: "Trapped!" and struck the spurs into his horse's flank. The stung steed pranced in a semi-circle answering his master's rein, but the fence of mounted steel was complete, every drawn sword a picket. Again Armstrong, laughing uneasily, faced the king, who still stood motionless.

"Your majesty has certainly the advantage of me as far as escort is concerned."

"It would seem so," replied James. "You travel with twoscore of men; I with a thousand."

"I have ever been a loyal subject of your majesty," said Armstrong, moistening his dry lips. "I hope I am to take no scathe for coming promptly and cordially to welcome your majesty to my poor district."

"You will be better able to answer your own question when you have replied to a few of mine. Have you ever met me before, Mr. Armstrong?"

The robber looked intently at the king.

"I think not," he said.

"Have you ever seen this man before?" and James motioned Sir David Lyndsay from the troop at his side.

Armstrong drew the back of his hand across his brow.

"I seem to remember him," he said, "but cannot tell where I have met him."

"Perhaps this third man will quicken your memory," and the cobbler came forward, dressed as he had been the night he was captured.

Armstrong gasped, and a greenish pallor overspread his face.

"What is your answer, Armstrong?" asked the king.

"I and my forty men will serve your majesty faithfully in your army if you grant us our lives."

"No thieves ride with any of Scotland's brigade, Armstrong."

"I will load your stoutest horse with gold until he cannot walk, if you spare our lives."

"The revenues of Scotland are sufficient as they are, Armstrong," replied the king.

"Harry of England will be glad to hear that the King of Scotland has destroyed twoscore of his stoutest warriors."

"The King of England is my relative, and I shall be happy to please him. The defence of Scotland is my care, and I have honest men enough in my army to see that it is secure. Have you anything further to say, Armstrong?"

"It is folly to seek grace at a graceless face. If we are for the tree, then to the tree with us. But if you make this fair forest bear such woeful fruit, you shall see the day when you shall die for lack of stout hearts like ours to follow you, as sure as this day is the fatal thirteenth."

The forty-one trees bore their burden, and thirteen years from that time the outlaw's prophecy was fulfilled.



THE KING'S GOLD

It is strange to record that the first serious difficulty which James encountered with the nobles who supported him, arose not over a question of State, but through the machinations of a foreign mountebank. The issue came to a point where, if the king had proceeded to punish the intriguer, his majesty might have stood alone while the lords of his court would have ranged themselves in support of the charlatan--a most serious state of things, the like of which has before now overturned a throne. In dealing with this unexpected crisis, the young king acted with a wisdom scarcely to be expected from his years. He directed the nobility as a skilful rider manages a mettlesome horse, sparing curb and spur when the use of the one might have unseated him, or the use of the other resulted in a frenzied bolt. Thus the judicious horseman keeps his saddle, yet arrives at the destination he has marked out from the beginning.

In the dusk of the evening, James went down the high street of Stirling, keeping close to the wall as was his custom when about to pay a visit to his friend the cobbler, for although several members of the court knew that he had a liking for low company, the king was well aware of the haughty disdain with which the nobles regarded those of the mechanical or trading classes. So he thought it best not to run counter to a prejudice so deeply rooted, and for this reason he restricted the knowledge of his visits to a few of his more intimate friends.

As the king was about to turn out of the main street he ran suddenly into the arms of a man coming from the shop of a clothier who made costumes for the court. As each started back from the unexpected encounter, the light from the mercer's shop window lit up the face of his majesty's opponent, and the latter saw that he had before him his old friend, Sir David Lyndsay.

"Ha, Davie!" cried the king, "it's surely late in the day to choose the colours for a new jacket."

"Indeed your majesty is in the right," replied Sir David, "but I was not selecting cloth; I was merely enacting the part of an honest man, and liquidating a reckoning of long standing."

"What, a poet with money!" exclaimed the king. "Who ever heard of such a thing? Man Davie, you might share the knowledge of your treasure-house with a friend. Kings are always in want of money. Is your gold mine rich enough for two?"

The king spoke jocularly, placing no particular meaning upon his words, and if Sir David had answered in kind, James would doubtless have thought no more about the matter, but the poet stammered and showed such evident confusion that his majesty's quick suspicions were at once aroused. He remembered that of late a change had come over the court. Scottish nobles were too poor to be lavish in dress, and frequently the somewhat meagre state of their wardrobe had furnished a subject for jest on the part of ambassadors from France or Spain. But when other foreigners less privileged than an ambassador had ventured to make the same theme one for mirth, they speedily found there was no joke in Scottish steel, which was ever at an opponent's service, even if gold were not. So those who were wise and fond of life, became careful not to make invidious comparisons between the gallants of Edinburgh and Stirling, and those of Paris and Madrid. But of late the court at Stirling had blossomed out in fine array, and although this grandeur had attracted the notice of the king and pleased him, he had given no thought to the origin of the new splendour.

The king instantly changed his mind regarding his visit to the cobbler, linked arm with the poet, and together they went up the street. This sudden reversion of direction gave the royal wanderer a new theme for thought and surmise. It seemed as if all the town was on the move, acting as surreptitiously as he himself had done a few moments previously. At first he imagined he had been followed, and the suspicion angered him. In the gloom he was unable to recognise any of the wayfarers, and each seemed anxious to avoid detection, passing hurriedly or slipping quietly down some less frequented alley or lane. Certain of the figures appeared familiar, but none stopped to question the king.

"Davie," cried James, pausing in the middle of the street, "you make a very poor conspirator."

"Indeed, your majesty," replied the poet earnestly, "no one is less of a conspirator than I."

"Davie, you are hiding something from me."

"That I am not, your majesty. I am quite ready to answer truly any question your majesty