ur corners of this wretched borough, and stifled
the insolent churls, like malicious fox cubs in a burning brake of
furze."

There was a silence when Douglas had done speaking, until the Duke of
Rothsay answered, addressing his father:

"Since the Earl of Douglas possesses the power of burning the town where
your Grace holds your court, so soon as the provost and he differ about
a night riot, or the terms of a cartel, I am sure we ought all to be
thankful that he has not the will to do so."

"The Duke of Rothsay," said Douglas, who seemed resolved to maintain
command of his temper, "may have reason to thank Heaven in a more
serious tone than he now uses that the Douglas is as true as he is
powerful. This is a time when the subjects in all countries rise against
the law: we have heard of the insurgents of the Jacquerie in France; and
of Jack Straw, and Hob Miller, and Parson Ball, among the Southron;
and we may be sure there is fuel enough to catch such a flame, were it
spreading to our frontiers. When I see peasants challenging noblemen,
and nailing the hands of the gentry to their city cross, I will not say
I fear mutiny--for that would be false--but I foresee, and will stand
well prepared for, it."

"And why does my Lord Douglas say," answered the Earl of March, "that
this cartel has been done by churls? I see Sir Patrick Charteris's name
there, and he, I ween, is of no churl's blood. The Douglas himself,
since he takes the matter so warmly, might lift Sir Patrick's gauntlet
without soiling of his honour."

"My Lord of March," replied Douglas, "should speak but of what he
understands. I do no injustice to the descendant of the Red Rover,
when I say he is too slight to be weighed with the Douglas. The heir of
Thomas Randolph might have a better claim to his answer."

"And, by my honour, it shall not miss for want of my asking the grace,"
said the Earl of March, pulling his glove off.

"Stay, my lord," said the King. "Do us not so gross an injury as to
bring your feud to mortal defiance here; but rather offer your ungloved
hand in kindness to the noble earl, and embrace in token of your mutual
fealty to the crown of Scotland."

"Not so, my liege," answered March; "your Majesty may command me to
return my gauntlet, for that and all the armour it belongs to are
at your command, while I continue to hold my earldom of the crown of
Scotland; but when I clasp Douglas, it must be with a mailed hand.
Farewell, my lieg