had
become of their fatal letters to the Bruce, or of him either. The
circumstances were unique, and they remained unchanged for three
feverish weeks.

We will now return to affairs in France, where on the day of the
Nativity, as night gathered about Calais, John Copeland came
unheralded to the quarters of King Edward, then besieging that city.
Master Copeland entreated audience, and got it readily enough, since
there was no man alive whom Sire Edward more cordially desired to lay
his fingers upon.

A page brought Master Copeland to the King, that stupendous, blond and
incredibly big person. With Sire Edward were that careful Italian,
Almerigo di Pavia, who afterward betrayed Sire Edward, and a lean
soldier whom Master Copeland recognized as John Chandos. These three
were drawing up an account of the recent victory at Creci, to be
forwarded to all mayors and sheriffs in England, with a cogent
postscript as to the King's incidental and immediate need of money.

Now King Edward sat leaning far back in his chair, a hand on either
hip, and with his eyes narrowing as he regarded Master Copeland. Had
the Brabanter flinched, the King would probably have hanged him within
the next ten minutes; finding his gaze unwavering, the King was
pleased. Here was a novelty; most people blinked quite honestly under
the scrutiny of those fierce big eyes, which were blue and cold and of
an astounding lustre. The lid of the left eye drooped a little: this
was Count Manuel's legacy, they whispered.

The King rose with a jerk and took John Copeland's hand. "Ha!" he
grunted, "I welcome the squire who by his valor has captured the King
of Scots. And now, my man, what have you done with Davie?"

John Copeland answered: "Highness, you may find him at your
convenience safely locked in Bamborough Castle. Meanwhile, I entreat
you, sire, do not take it amiss if I did not surrender King David to
the orders of my lady Queen, for I hold my lands of you, and not of
her, and my oath is to you, and not to her, unless indeed by choice."

"John," the King sternly replied, "the loyal service you have done us
is considerable, whereas your excuse for kidnapping Davie is a farce.
Hey, Almerigo, do you and Chandos avoid the chamber! I have something
in private with this fellow." When they had gone, the King sat down
and composedly said, "Now tell me the truth, John Copeland."

"Sire," Copeland began, "it is necessary you first understand I bear a
letter f