omised him liberty of choice. He would ask counsel of a
priest next time he went to confession; and in the meantime, in the full
tide of gratitude, admiration, and affection, he gave himself up to the
enjoyment of his new situation, and of time King's kindness and
solicitude. This was indeed absolutely that of an elder brother; for,
observing that Malcolm's dress and equipments, the work of Glenuskie
looms, supplemented by a few Edinburgh purchases, was uncouth enough to
attract some scornful glances from the crowd who came out to welcome the
royal entrance into York the next day, he instantly sent Brewster in
search of the best tailor and lorimer in the city, and provided so
handsomely for the appearance of young Glenuskie, his horse, and his
attendants, that the whole floor of their quarters was strewn with
doublets, boots, chaperons, and gloves, saddles, bridles, and spurs, when
the Duke of Bedford loitered into the room, and began to banter James for
thus (as he supposed) pranking himself out to meet the lady of his love;
and then bemoaned the fripperies that had become the rage in their once
bachelor court, vowing, between sport and earnest, that Hal was so
enamoured of his fair bride, that anon the conquest of France would be
left to himself and his brother, Tom of Clarence; while James retorted by
thrusts at Bedford's own rusticity of garb, and by endeavouring to force
on him a pair of shoes with points like ram's horns, as a special
passport to the favour of Dame Jac--a lady who seemed to be the object of
Duke John's great distaste.

Suddenly a voice was heard in the gallery of the great old mansion where
they were lodged. 'John! John! Here!--Where is the Duke, I say?' It
was thick and husky, as with some terrible emotion; and the King and Duke
had already started in dismay before the door was thrown open, and King
Henry stood among them, his face of a burning red.

'See here, John!' he said, holding out a letter; and then, with an accent
of wrathful anguish, and a terrible frown, he turned on James,
exclaiming, 'I would send you to the Tower, Sir, did I think you had a
hand in this!'

Malcolm trembled, and sidled nearer his prince; while James, with an
equally fierce look, replied, 'Hold, Sir! Send me where you will, but
dare not dishonour my name!' Then changing, as he saw the exceeding
grief on Henry's brow, and heard John's smothered cry of dismay, 'For
Heaven's sake, Harry, what is it?'

'This!'