and Alan,
how can I tell his mother--how face her sorrow for her son?"

Time passed, and there was no sound; the visible anxiety of the king
hushed into yet deeper stillness the voices hushed before. His meaning
was speedily gathered from his broken words, and many mounted the craggy
heights to mark if there might not yet be some signs of the missing
ones. Time seemed to linger on his flight. The intervening rocks and
bushes confined all sounds within a very narrow space; but at length a
faint unintelligible noise broke on the stillness, it came nearer,
nearer still, a moment more and the tread of horses' hoofs echoed
amongst the rocks--a shout, a joyful shout proclaimed them friends. The
king sprung to his feet. Another minute Nigel and Alan pressed around
him; with the banner still in his hand, Alan knelt and laid it at his
sovereign's feet.

"From thy hand I received it, to thee I restore it," he said, but his
voice was scarcely articulate; he bowed his head to press Robert's
extended hand to his lips, and sunk senseless at his feet.

CHAPTER XI.

Rumors of the fatal issue of the engagement at Methven speedily reached
Scone, laden, of course, with, yet more disastrous tidings than had
foundation in reality. King Robert, it was said, and all his nobles and
knights--nay, his whole army--were cut off to a man; the king, if not
taken prisoner, was left dead on the field, and all Scotland lay again
crushed and enslaved at the feet of Edward. For four-and-twenty hours
did the fair inhabitants of the palace labor under this belief,
well-nigh stunned beneath the accumulation of misfortune. It was curious
to remark the different forms in which affliction appeared in different
characters, The queen, in loud sobs and repeated wailing, at one time
deplored her own misery; at others, accused her husband of rashness and
madness. Why had he not taken her advice and remained quiet? Why could
he not have been contented with the favor of Edward and a proud, fair
heritage? What good did he hope to get for himself by assuming the crown
of so rude and barren a land as Scotland? Had she not told him he was
but a summer king, that the winter would soon blight his prospects and
nip his budding hopes; and had she not proved herself wiser even than he
was himself? and then she would suddenly break off in these reproaches
to declare that, if he were a prisoner, she would go to him; she would
remain with him to the last; she would p