THE MISSION OF JAMES THE GROSS

From all sides the Douglases were marching upon Edinburgh. After the
murder of the young lords the city gates had been closed by order of
the Chancellor. The castle was put into a thorough state of defence.
The camp of the Avondale Douglases, William and James, was already on
the Boroughmuir, and the affrighted citizens looked in terror upon the
thickening banners with the bloody Douglas heart upon them, and upon
the array of stalwart and determined men of the south. Curses both
loud and deep were hurled from the besiegers' lines at every head seen
above the walls, together with promises to burn Edinburgh, castle and
burgh alike, and to slocken the ashes with the blood of every living
thing within, all for the cause of the Black Dinner and the Bull's
Head set before the brothers of Douglas.

But at midnoon of a glorious day in the late September, a man rode out
from the west port of the city, a fat man flaccid of body, pale and
tallowy of complexion. A couple of serving-men went behind him, with
the Douglas arms broidered on their coats. They looked no little
terrified, and shook upon their horses, as indeed well they might.
This little cavalcade rode directly out of the city gates towards the
pavilion of the young Douglases of Avondale. As they went two running
footmen kept them company, one on either side of their leader, and as
that unwieldy horseman swayed this way and that in the saddle, first
one and then the other applied with his open palm the force requisite
to keep the rider erect upon his horse.

It was the new Earl of Douglas, James the Gross, on his way to visit
the camp of his sons. As he approached the sentries who stood on guard
upon the broomy braes betwixt Merchiston and Bruntsfield, he was
challenged in a fierce southland shout by one of the Carsphairn levies
who knew him not.

"Stand back there, fat loon, gin ye wantna a quarrel shot intil that
swagging tallow-bag ye ca' your wame!"

"Out of my way, hill varlet!" cried the man on horseback.

But the Carsphairn man stood with his cross-bow pointed straight at the
leader of the cavalcade, crying at the same time in a loud,
far-carrying voice over his shoulder, "Here awa', Anthon--here awa',
Bob! Come and help me to argue wi' this fat rogue."

Several other hillmen came hurrying up, and the little company of
riders was brought to a standstill. Then ensued this colloquy.

"Who are you that dare stop my way?"