The fierce soldier, the unjust judge, the mean king--into what den of wild animals had I thrust myself? Well, I had played gallantly heretofore, and I would bear myself in the same way to the end. "I thank Your Majesty," I said, declining the proffered seat. "I come as a suppliant from my father." "From your father?" inquired the King in great wonderment. He looked at Jeffreys and laughed. "You must have come from hell then," roared the Justice, emboldened by the King's look, "for the vile traitor's head hath rolled from the block four or five days since." "Shame!" murmured the Bishop, not so low but that all could hear. I despised Jeffreys; I loathed him; I answered him back not as a woman, I am glad to say, but as a man. "That's a lie!" I cried impetuously. "My father lives." "The falsehood can easily be made truth then, woman!" cried the King, leaning forward with an angry frown. "At Your Majesty's pleasure," said I boldly. "God hath put the lives of your poor subjects into your hand, but it is to stay that royal hand that I am come." "What mean you?" "Give me leave, Your Majesty," interposed Jeffreys. "A royal warrant for the execution of the Earl of Clanranald was made out; I wrote it myself. It was sent to Sir Alexander Forfair, my brother of Scotland. Hath he dared to delay its execution, hussy?" He rose as he spoke, leaned over the table and shook his fist in my face. I cannot describe the insolence, the overbearing brutality of his manner. I looked him straight in the face, and answered nothing. "Well, madam?" cried the King. "Your Majesty," I answered, "I will hold no converse with this man. My errand is with yourself." "Give her to me, Your Majesty," roared Jeffreys. "I will have her stripped and whip her naked at the cart's tail like Anne Lisle and the rest of the cursed brood of rebels." "Sire," interposed the Bishop quickly, "Your Majesty will not do this thing. The meanest subject hath the right to appeal to the Crown, and here is a defenceless woman who begs only for her father's life." "Peace, Jeffreys!" said the King. "As for you, my lord of Bath and Wells"--so this was good Bishop Ken of whom I had heard!--"your advice for once is good. I will hear the lady. Madam, your story." "I thank Your Majesty," I said quickly. "Sir Hugh Richmond was set on by a highwayman near Edinburgh, shot, left senseless in the road, despoiled of the royal warrant, which was burned. Therefore, there hath as yet been no execution, fortunately for my plea." "The matter then is but postponed," said the King indifferently.