see, but they
did not gain on our fishing boat."

"Well, methinks that we had better be off, at once," Roger said. "They
will soon learn which boat has come from Dunbar, and find out from the
men what were the disguises worn by us. So we had best lose no time in
getting out of Leith."

"They would never dare to seize us, here," Oswald said.

"I don't know that. If they have strict orders to bring us back, they
would not feel much hesitation in seizing us, wherever they found us;
knowing well enough that the burghers of Leith would not concern
themselves greatly about the capture of two drovers, who would probably
be charged with all sorts of crime. Were it one of their own citizens,
it would be different; but it is scarce likely that the burghers would
care to quarrel, with a powerful noble, for the sake of two strangers
of low degree. The gates will be open before this, and we shall be
safer in Edinburgh than we are here."

Accordingly, they postponed their breakfast and, passing through the
town without a pause, issued out by the south gate, and walked briskly
to Edinburgh. As soon as they arrived, they found a small tavern, and
partook of a hearty meal. Listening while they ate to the conversation
going on around them, they found that the young Duke of Rothesay was,
at present, staying at the castle.

"Men say that the disputes between him and his uncle, the Duke of
Albany, have of late grown hotter."

"That might well be," another said. "Rothesay is a man, now. He has
shown himself a brave soldier, and it is not likely that he would
support, with patience, the haughtiness and overbearing manner of
Albany. It was an evil day for Scotland when our good king, who was
then but prince, lamed himself for life; and so was forced, on his
accession, to leave the conduct of affairs to Albany, then Earl of
Fife. The king, as all men know, is just and good, and has at heart the
welfare of his subjects; but his accident has rendered him unfit to
take part in public affairs, and he loves peace and quiet as much as
Albany loves intrigues, and dark and devious ways. 'Tis a sore pity
that the king cannot make up his mind to throw himself into the arms of
Douglas, and call upon the nobility to join in expelling Albany from
his councils; and to give the charge of affairs into the hands of
Rothesay, or even to bestow upon him the kingly dignity, while he
himself retires to the peaceful life he loves."

"That would have been be