It was a sultry night, and Henry had insisted on sleeping in his tent, declaring himself sick of stone walls; and as they approached his voice could be heard in brief excited sentences, giving orders, and asking for the King of Scots. 'Here, Sir,' said James, stopping in where the curtain was looped up, and showed King Henry half sitting, half lying, on a couch of cushions and deer-skins, his eyes full of fire, his thin face flushed with deep colour; Bedford, March, Warwick, and Salisbury in attendance. 'Ho! you are late!' said Henry. 'Did you come up with the caitiff robbers?' 'They made off as we rode up. The village was already burnt.' 'Who were they? I hope you hung them on the spot, as I bade,' continued Henry, coughing between his sentences, and almost in spite of himself, putting his hand to his side. 'I was delayed. There was a life to save: a gentleman who lay sick and stifled in a burning house.' 'And what was it to you,' cried Henry, angrily, 'if a dozen rebel Armagnacs were fried alive, when I sent you to hinder my men from growing mere thieves? Gentleman, forsooth! One would think it the Dauphin himself; or mayhap Buchan. Ha! it is a Scot, then!' 'Yes, Sir,' said James; 'Sir Patrick Drummond, a good knight, hurt and helpless, for whom I entreat your grace.' 'You disobeyed me to spare a Scot!' burst forth Henry. 'You, who call yourself a captain of mine, and who know my will! He hangs instantly!' 'Harry, bethink yourself. This is no captive taken in battle. He is a sick man, left behind, sorely hurt.' 'Then wherefore must you be meddling, instead of letting him burn as he deserved, and heeding what you undertook for me? I _will_ have none of your traitor ruffians here. Since you have brought him in, the halter for him!--Here, Ralf Percy, tell the Provost-marshal--' He was interrupted, for James unbuckled his sword, and tendered it to him. 'King Harry,' he said gravely, 'this morning I was your friend and brother-in-arms; now I am your captive. Hang Patrick Drummond, who aided me at Meaux in saving my honour and such freedom as I have, and I return to any prison you please, and never strike blow for you again.' 'Take back your sword,' said Henry. 'What folly is this? You knew that I count not your rebel subjects as prisoners of war.' 'I did not know that I was saving a defenceless man from the flames to be used like a dog. I never offered my arm to serve a savage tyrant.' 'Take your sword!' reiterated Henry, his passion giving way before James's steady calmness. 'We will look into it to-morrow: but it was no soldierly act to take advantage of my weariness, to let my commands be broken the first day of taking the field, and bring the caitiff here. We will leave him for the night, I say. Take up your sword.' 'Not till I am sure of my liegeman's life,' said James. 'No threats, Sir. I will make no promise,' said Henry, haughtily; but the words died away in a racking cough.