e Duke sat in the central tower of the fortress of Black Angers,
that which looks between the high flanking turrets of the mighty
enceinte of walls. He wriggled discontentedly in his chair and
grumbled under his breath.

At his shoulder, tall, gaunt, angular, with lantern jaws and a mouth
like a wolf trap, deep-set eyes that flamed under bushy eyebrows,
stood Pierre de l'Hopital, the true master of Brittany.

"I tell you I will go to the tennis-courts--the three Scots must wait
audience till to-morrow. What errand can they have with me--some
rascals whom Charles will not pay now that his job is done? They come
to take service doubtless. A beggarly lot are all such out-land
varlets, but brave--yes, excellent soldiers are the Scots, so long as
they are well fed, that is."

"Nay, my Lord Duke," said Pierre de l'Hopital, standing up tall and
sombre, his long black gown accentuating the peculiarities of his
figure. "It were almost necessary to see these men now and hear what
they have to say. I myself have seen them and judge it to be so."

John of Brittany threw down the little sceptre, fashioned in imitation
of that made for the King of France, with which he had been toying.
The action was that of a pettish child.

"Oh," he cried, "if you have decided, there remains nothing for me but
to obey!"

"I thank your Excellency for your gracious readiness to grant the men
an interview," said Pierre de l'Hopital, having regard to the
essential matter and disregarding the unessential manner.

Duke John sat glooming and kicking his feet to and fro on the raised
dais, while behind his chair, impassive as the Grand Inquisitor
himself, Pierre de l'Hopital, President of Brittany, lifted a hand to
an unseen servitor; and in a few moments the three Scots were ushered
into the ducal presence.

The Lord James in virtue of his quality stood a little in front, not
by his own will or desire, but because Sholto and his father had so
placed themselves that the young noble should have his own rightful
precedence. For as to these things all Scots are careful by nature.

Duke John continued to keep his eyes averted from the men who sought
his presence. He teased a little lop-eared spaniel, and nipped it till
it yelped. But the President of Brittany never took his eyes off the
strangers, examining them with a bold, keen, remorseless glance, in
which, however, there was neither evil nor the tolerance of it. Not a
man to make himself greatly