panions,
joining in every accommodation for them, even giving his manual labor
with the lowest of his followers, if his aid would lessen fatigue, or
more quickly enhance comfort. And often and often in the little
encampment we have described, when night fell, and warrior and dame
would assemble, in various picturesque groups, on the grassy mound, the
king, seated in the midst of them, would read aloud, and divert even the
most wearied frame and careworn mind by the stirring scenes and
chivalric feelings his MSS. recorded. The talent of deciphering
manuscripts, indeed of reading any thing, was one seldom attained or
even sought for in the age of which we treat; the sword and spear were
alike the recreation and the business of the nobles. Reading and writing
were in general confined to monks, and the other clergy; but Robert,
even as his brother Nigel, possessed both these accomplishments,
although to the former their value never seemed so fully known as in his
wanderings. His readings were diversified by rude narratives or tales,
which he demanded in return from his companions, and many a hearty laugh
would resound from the woodland glades, at the characteristic humor with
which these demands were complied with: the dance, too, would diversify
these meetings. A night of repose might perhaps succeed, to be disturbed
at its close by a cause for alarm, and those pleasant resting-places
must be abandoned, the happy party be divided, and scattered far and
wide, to encounter fatigue, danger, perchance even death, ere they met
again.

Yet still they drooped not, murmured not. No voice was ever heard to
wish the king's advice had been taken, and they had sought refuge in
Norway. Not even Margaret breathed one sigh, dropped one tear, in her
husband's presence, although many were the times that she would have
sunk from exhaustion, had not Isabella of Buchan been near as her
guardian angel to revive, encourage, infuse a portion of her own spirit
in the weaker heart, which so confidingly clung to her. The youngest
and most timid maiden, the oldest and most ailing man, still maintained
the same patriotic spirit and resolute devotion which had upheld them at
first. "The Bruce and Scotland" were the words imprinted on their souls,
endowed with a power to awake the sinking heart, and rouse the fainting
frame.

To Agnes and Nigel, it was shrewdly suspected, these wanderings in the
centre of magnificent nature, their hearts open to each