Leaving, at some distance behind, the brilliant cavalcade which accompanied him, the King--a brave monarch, who had been almost riddled by bullets, and had more sword-cuts in his body than slashes in his doublet--rode slowly forward, and saluted the whole regiment by uncovering his head. He wore a suit of the richest blue Utrecht velvet laced with gold, a crimson cloak of Danish silk, and long Swedish leather gloves. Everything about him was magnificent. (In 1621, Christian was rich enough to be able to lend King James VI. a hundred thousand thalers.) Around his neck hung a gold chain, like the catella of the Romans, and he wore a magnificent gold scarf. His countenance was open, manly, frank, and ruddy; having a thick red mustache, and a clear blue eye. His horse was richly caparisoned in the Danish colours, having the leopard passant in the corners of the saddlecloth, and a chamfrain made of thick leather, boiled and prepared to encase the charger's head, under the bridle, which was thickly covered with gold-headed studs. Our good regiment of Strathnaver, afterwards known as "the Scottish Invincibles," being a Highland battalion, was viewed by his majesty with marked attention. He rode slowly down the front, and up the rear to the right flank, where he acquainted Sir Donald with his wish, that we should march past him in review order. The whole line then fell back by companies,* and marched past with pipes playing and drums beating, colours flying, pikes advanced and matches lighted. A burst of applause came from our Lowland countrymen, who, as well as the Danes, crowded from their cantonments to behold us. Now came the quarrel already referred to. * He means, broke into open column. The review being over, our colonel, Sir Donald Mackay, his two majors, sergeant-major Dunbar, and all the officers, were summoned to the front, that they might kiss the hand of his majesty, who expressed surprise at the fashion of our colours, and required that we should place the Danish cross above that of St. Andrew! "May it please your majesty to excuse our compliance with this order," replied Sir Donald, concealing his indignation under a calm exterior; "for we cannot impose the Danish cross on Scottish colours without failing in our duty and allegiance to his majesty Charles I. as king of Scotland; and sure I am that all these cavaliers, my officers, will agree with me. What is your opinion, Dunbar?" "Swords and pikes!" grumbled the old fellow under his thick mustache; "we cannot carry the Danish cross without dishonour." "Dishonour!" reiterated the king, flushing with passion and raising his baton, but immediately lowering it on perceiving that the gauntleted hand of Dunbar sought the hilt of his claymore. "I mean, dishonour to ourselves as Scotsman," continued Dunbar, willing to palliate his bluntness; "for a superiority of Denmark over our native country would thereby be implied."