fully saluted
the fair, soft cheek; confused yet pleased, Agnes looked doubtingly
towards Nigel, who, smiling a happy, trusting, joyous smile, led her a
few minutes apart, whispered some fond words, raised her hand to his
lips, and summoning Alan, they left the room together.

"Sir Robert Keith informs me, noble lady," said the king, again
addressing Isabella, "that it is your determination to represent, in
your own proper person, the ancient line of Duff at the approaching
ceremony, and demand from our hands, as such representative, the
privilege granted by King Malcolm to your noble ancestor and his
descendants, of placing on the sovereign's brow the coronet of Scotland.
Is it not so?"

"I do indeed most earnestly demand this privilege, my gracious liege,"
answered the countess, firmly; "demand it as a right, a glorious right,
made mine by the weak and fickle conduct of my brother. Alas! the only
male descendant of that line which until now hath never known a
traitor."

"But hast thou well considered, lady? There is danger in this act,
danger even to thyself."

"My liege, that there is danger threatening all the patriots of
Scotland, monarch or serf, male or female, I well know; yet in what does
it threaten me more in this act, than in the mere acknowledgment of the
Earl of Carrick as my sovereign?"

"It will excite the rage of Edward of England against thyself
individually, lady; I know him well, only too well. All who join in
giving countenance and aid to my inauguration will be proclaimed,
hunted, placed under the ban of traitors, and, if unfortunately taken,
will in all probability share the fate of Wallace." His voice became
husky with strong emotion. "There is no exception in his sweeping
tyranny; youth and age, noble and serf, of either sex, of either land,
if they raise the sword for Bruce and freedom, will fall by the
hangman's cord or headsman's axe; and I, alas! must look on and bear,
for I have neither men nor power to avert such fate; and that hand which
places on my head the crown, death, death, a cruel death, will be the
doom of its patriot owner. Think, think on this, and oh, retract thy
noble resolution, ere it be too late."

"Is she who gives the crown in greater danger, good my liege, than he
who wears it?" demanded the countess, with a calm and quiet smile.

"Nay," he answered, smiling likewise for the moment, "but I were worse
than traitor, did I shrink from Scotland in her need, and refu