One was a man of a tall figure and noble presence, with a long, grave, and pleasing face. The other was equally noble in bearing, but his face was less pleasing in expression, for his temples were hollow, his eyes keen, his brows knit, and there played about his thin, cruel lips a crafty but courtly smile. "Summon Romanno, the constable; bid him display the king's standard--call the garrison to their arms--shut gates and barriers," were the orders given rapidly by both at the same moment. The first was Sir Alexander Livingstone, of Callendar, Regent of Scotland, and governor of the young king, James II., then in his eleventh year. The second was Sir William Crichton of that ilk, the Lord Chancellor, appointed by the Parliament, after the murder of the late King James I., in the Black Friary, at Perth. "Red-haired Achanna, with his Judas-coloured red beard, has played his cards well for us and for the king," said the Chancellor, with a crafty smile. "Achanna," replied the Regent, grimly; "yes, a wretch born with the stamp of hell on his forehead--a hireling clerk, as well as swashbuckler." "But a useful man withal, and said to be a go-between of Douglas and Duke Robert of Albany." James Achanna, the person to whom they referred, was a red-haired and red-bearded gentleman, of Galloway, outwardly a stanch adherent of Douglas, but in the secret pay of his enemies, the Regent and Chancellor. Thus he had conveyed the artful message by which the hostile earl, and the chief members of his family, were _lured_ to visit the court of the young king. "So he is in sight at last," said the Regent through his clenched teeth; "do you see his train, my lord?" "Aye; on the road by Kirk-liberton. He is coming down the brae in his bravery, with banner and spear, but that pride shall have a fall, for he comes to his doom." "But, Chancellor, his countess and her sister," whispered the Regent; "they--they----" "Well; what of them?" "Must they too perish?" "Let the whole brood perish at one fell swoop," was the fierce response, in a husky whisper. "Had they but one neck, I tell thee, Livingstone, it should be laid on the block that awaits the Douglas in the hall below us." "Hush!" "And wherefore hush?" continued the elder statesman, fiercely. "Know ye not that Sir Patrick Gray loves the earl's cousin?" said the Regent, glancing hastily at their two companions, who stood a little way from them. "Murielle Douglas," replied Crichton, grinding his sharp teeth; "well, be it so; but I shall give her a colder gudeman than the king's liege subject, and the Captain of his Guard--will God I shall!"