since he passed the border, thinking himself
despised by all for being ill-favoured and ill-dressed, and chafing,
above all, at the gay contempt he fancied in young Ralf Percy's eye. He
became constantly more discontented with this noisy turmoil, and more
resolved to insist on returning to the peaceful cloister where alone he
could hide his head and be at rest.

The troop halted for what they called their noon meat at the abode of a
hospitable Yorkshire knight; but King Henry, in order that the good
gentleman's means should not be overtasked, had given directions that
only the ladies and the princes should enter the house, while the rest of
the suite should take their meal at the village inn.

King James, in attending to Joan, had entirely forgotten his cousin; and
Malcolm, doubtful and diffident, was looking hesitatingly at the gateway,
when Ralf Percy called out, 'Ha! you there, this is our way. That is
only for the royal folk; but there's good sack and better sport down
here! I'll show you the way,' he added, good-naturedly, softened, as
most were, by the startled, wistful, timid look.

Malcolm, ashamed to say he was royal, but surprised at the patronage, was
gratefully following, when old Bairdsbrae indignantly laid his hand on
the rein. 'Not so, Sir; this is no place for you!'

'Let me alone!' entreated Malcolm, as he saw Percy's amazed look and
whistle of scorn. 'They don't want me.'

'You will never have your place if you do not take it,' said the old
gentleman; and leading the trembling, shrinking boy up to the door, he
continued, 'For the honour of Scotland, Sir!' and then announcing Malcolm
by his rank and title, he almost thrust him in.

Fancying he detected a laugh on Ralf Percy's face, and a sneer on that of
the stout English porter, Malcolm felt doubly wretched as he was ushered
into the hall and the buzz of talk and the confusion made by the
attendance of the worthy knight and his many sons, one of whom, waiting
with better will than skill, had nearly run down the shy limping
Scotsman, who looked wildly for refuge at some table. In his height of
distress, a kindly gesture of invitation beckoned to him, and he found
himself seated and addressed, first in French, and then in careful
foreign English, by the same lady whom he had yesterday taken for Joan of
Somerset, namely, Esclairmonde de Luxemburg.

He was too much confused to look up till the piece of pasty and the wine
with which the lady ha