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," he began, "it is necessary you first understand I bear a letter
from Madame Philippa--"

"Then read it," said the King. "Heart of God! have I an eternity to
waste on you Brabanters!"

John Copeland read aloud, while the King trifled with a pen, half
negligent, and in part attendant.

Read John Copeland:

"My DEAR LORD,--_I recommend me to your lordship with soul and body and
all my poor might, and with all this I thank you, as my dear lord,
dearest and best beloved of all earthly lords I protest to me, and
thank you, my dear lord, with all this as I say before. Your
comfortable letter came to me on Saint Gregory's day, and I was never
so glad as when I heard by your letter that ye were strong enough in
Ponthieu by the grace of God for to keep you from your enemies. Among
them I estimate Madame Catherine de Salisbury, who would have betrayed
you to the Scot. And, dear lord, if it be pleasing to your high
lordship that as soon as ye may that I might hear of your gracious
speed, which may God Almighty continue and increase, I shall be glad,
and also if ye do each night chafe your feet with a rag of woollen
stuff. And, my dear lord, if it like you for to know of my fare, John
Copeland will acquaint you concerning the Bruce his capture, and the
syrup he brings for our son Lord Edward's cough, and the great
malice-workers in these shires which would have so despitefully wrought
to you, and of the manner of taking it after each meal. I am lately
informed that Madame Catherine is now at Stirling with Robert Stewart
and has lost all her good looks through a fever. God is invariably
gracious to His servants. Farewell, my dear lord, and may the Holy
Trinity keep you from your adversaries