s to supply the place of
the ancient stone, the coronation seat of the Scottish kings--no longer
there, its absence felt by one and all within that church as the closing
seal to Edward's infamy--the damning proof that as his slave, not as his
sister kingdom, he sought to render Scotland. From the throne to the
high altar, where the king was to receive the eucharist, a carpet of
richly-brocaded Genoa velvet was laid down; a cushion of the same
elegantly-wrought material marked the place beside the spot where he was
to kneel. Priests, in their richest vestments, officiated at the high
altar; six beautiful boys, bearing alternately a large waxen candle, and
the golden censers filled with the richest incense, stood beside them,
while opposite the altar and behind the throne, in an elevated gallery,
were ranged the seventy choristers of the abbey, thirty of whom were
youthful novices; behind them a massive screen or curtain of tapestry
concealed the organ, and gave a yet more startling and thrilling effect
to its rich deep tones, thus bursting, as it were, from spheres unseen.

The throne was already occupied by the patriot king, clothed in his
robes of state; his inner dress was a doublet and vest of white velvet,
slashed with cloth of silver; his stockings, fitting tight to the knee,
were of the finest woven white silk, confined where they met the doublet
with a broad band of silver; his shoes of white velvet, broidered with
silver, in unison with his dress; a scarf of cloth of silver passed over
his right shoulder, fastened there by a jewelled clasp, and, crossing
his breast, secured his trusty sword to his left side; his head, of
course, was bare, and his fair hair, parted carefully on his arched and
noble brow, descended gracefully on either side; his countenance was
perfectly calm, unexpressive of aught save of a deep sense of the solemn
service in which he was engaged. There was not the faintest trace of
either anxiety or exultation--naught that could shadow the brows of his
followers, or diminish by one particle the love and veneration which in
every heart were rapidly gaining absolute dominion.

On the right of the king stood the Abbot of Scone, the Archbishop of St.
Andrew's, and Bishop of Glasgow, all of which venerable prelates had
instantaneously and unhesitatingly declared for the Bruce; ranged on
either side of the throne, according more to seniority than rank, were
seated the brothers of the Bruce and the loy