in heaven, it shall be fearfully avenged, and that madman rue the
day he dared fling down the gauntlet of rebellion!" and as he spoke, his
right hand instinctively grasped the hilt of his sword, and half drew it
from its sheath.

"Madman, in very truth, my liege," said Aymer de Valence, Earl of
Pembroke, who, high in favor with his sovereign, alone ventured to
address him; "as your grace will believe, when I say not only hath he
dared defy thee by the murder of Comyn, but has had the presumptuous
folly to enact the farce of coronation, taking upon himself all the
insignia of a king."

"How! what sayst thou, De Valence," returned Edward, again starting up,
"coronation--king? By St. Edward! this passeth all credence. Whence
hadst thou this witless news?"

"From sure authority, my liege, marvellous as they seem. These papers,
if it please your grace to peruse, contain matters of import which
demand most serious attention."

"Anon, anon, sir earl!" answered Edward, impatiently, as Pembroke,
kneeling, laid the papers on a small table of ivory which stood at the
monarch's side. "Tell me more of this strange farce; a king, ha! ha!
Does the rebel think 'tis but to put a crown upon his head and a sceptre
in his hand that makes the monarch--a king, forsooth. And who officiated
at this right solemn mockery? 'Twas, doubtless, a goodly sight!"

"On my knightly faith, my liege, strangely, yet truly, 'twas a ceremony
regally performed, and, save for numbers, regally attended."

"Thou darest not tell me so!" exclaimed the king, striking his clenched
hand fiercely on the table. "I tell thee thou darest not; 'tis a false
tale, a lie thrust upon thee to rouse thy spirit but to laugh at. De
Valence, I tell thee 'tis a thing that cannot be! Scotland is laid too
low, her energies are crushed; her best and bravest lying in no
bloodless graves. Who is there to attend this puppet king, save the few
we miss? who dared provoke our wrath by the countenance of such a deed?
Who would dare tempt our fury by placing a crown on the rebel's head?
I tell thee they have played thee false--it cannot be!"

"Thy valor hath done much, my gracious liege," returned Pembroke, "far
more than ever king hath done before; but pardon me, your grace, the
_people_ of Scotland are not yet crushed, they lie apparently in peace,
till a chief capable of guiding, lordly in rank and knightly in war,
ariseth, and then they too stand forth. Yet what are they? they do bu