mong
the gay, was singing "The King's Quhair," a ballad of his own writing,
when the usher interrupted him to announce the old witch of the Firth of
Forth. She says "she must have speech with you," said the usher, and
that her words "admit of no delay." But James was annoyed by the
interruption, and, as it was midnight, ordered her to be sent away,
promising to see her on the morrow. Driven forth at the king's command,
the old beldame wrung her hands, and cried, "Woe! woe! To-morrow I shall
not see his face!" and the usher, upon the king's interrogation,
repeated her words to him and to the queen. Upon hearing them, both were
filled with anxiety and fear, and thinking it best to close the
festivities of the evening the king gave the signal for the finish of
the feast, and the guests slowly separated and left the hall. The king's
chamberlain was the last to leave, and his errand was one of treachery.

During the day the conspirators had been busily preparing for their
opportunity. The locks of the hall had been tampered with so that their
keys were of no avail. The bars by which the gates were barricaded were
removed from their accustomed place. Planks had been surreptitiously
placed across the moat that the enemy might obtain easy access to the
stronghold; and Sir Richard Graeme, with three hundred followers in his
train, was waiting for the signal to advance.

James and his wife stood hand in hand before the log fire of the great
hall, while the bower-maidens of the queen prepared the royal bed in an
alcove leading from the chamber. The old crone's warning had struck
terror to the queen's heart, and unnerved the courage of the king. While
looking anxiously at the burning logs in the fireplace, again they heard
the voice of the witch, inarticulate in its frenzy, uttering a wild,
wailing scream. In an instant the waiting-women had drawn back the
curtains, and the red glow of a hundred torches flashed upon the walls
of the Hall. The king looked round for a weapon, but there was none to
be found; he shouted to the women to shut the bolts, but the bolts had
been removed; he tried the windows, they were fast and barred; and then,
hearing the approach of his enemies along the passage, he stood with
folded arms in the centre of the Hall to wait for death.

Beneath the Hall lay the unused and forgotten vaults of the monastery;
and in the king's extremity it occurred to Catherine Douglas, one of the
waiting-women, that these m