so; but even this is the less pressing peril, especially as it
threatens open violence, for the Douglas works not in secret."

"What is there which presses, and keeps us awake at this late hour? I am
a weary man, thou a wounded one, and the very tapers are blinking, as if
tired of our conference."

"Tell me, then, who is it that rules this kingdom of Scotland?" said
Ramorny.

"Robert, third of the name," said the Prince, raising his bonnet as he
spoke; "and long may he sway the sceptre!"

"True, and amen," answered Ramorny; "but who sways King Robert, and
dictates almost every measure which the good King pursues?"

"My Lord of Albany, you would say," replied the Prince. "Yes, it is true
my father is guided almost entirely by the counsels of his brother; nor
can we blame him in our consciences, Sir John Ramorny, for little help
hath he had from his son."

"Let us help him now, my lord," said Ramorny. "I am possessor of a
dreadful secret: Albany hath been trafficking with me, to join him
in taking your Grace's life! He offers full pardon for the past, high
favour for the future."

"How, man--my life? I trust, though, thou dost only mean my kingdom? It
were impious! He is my father's brother--they sat on the knees of the
same father--lay in the bosom of the same mother. Out on thee, man, what
follies they make thy sickbed believe!"

"Believe, indeed!" said Ramorny. "It is new to me to be termed
credulous. But the man through whom Albany communicated his temptations
is one whom all will believe so soon as he hints at mischief--even the
medicaments which are prepared by his hands have a relish of poison."

"Tush! such a slave would slander a saint," replied the Prince. "Thou
art duped for once, Ramorny, shrewd as thou art. My uncle of Albany
is ambitious, and would secure for himself and for his house a larger
portion of power and wealth than he ought in reason to desire. But to
suppose he would dethrone or slay his brother's son--Fie, Ramorny! put
me not to quote the old saw, that evil doers are evil dreaders. It is
your suspicion, not your knowledge, which speaks."

"Your Grace is fatally deluded. I will put it to an issue. The Duke of
Albany is generally hated for his greed and covetousness. Your Highness
is, it may be, more beloved than--"

Ramorny stopped, the Prince calmly filled up the blank: "More beloved
than I am honoured. It is so I would have it, Ramorny."

"At least," said Ramorny, "you are more be