Maitland cut short his further objections by desiring Maxwell to proceed with his account of the fray, while the Queen looked up from her work as if about to expostulate, but checked herself with a half-smothered sigh. Maxwell told his tale simply and frankly. It was obvious that the fray had originated in a brawl begun by the Hamiltons, who had insisted on forcing their way into Mistress Alison’s house. Seeing that bloodshed was unavoidable, he had hurried off to alarm the civic guard, leaving the earl’s henchman at the door. When he returned, the skirmish, as Lord James could corroborate, was at its height. The henchman could speak to what took place during the narrator’s absence; he had craved permission to bring him to Holyrood for that purpose. His manly, straightforward evidence seemed to make a favourable impression on the council. Maitland looked up from his notes, and, glancing at the duke for approval, desired the borderer to be summoned. Honest Dick entered the council-chamber with an undaunted front, till he caught sight of the Queen, when he blushed up to his ears, and made a profound and exceedingly awkward obeisance. Then he looked about as if in search of something, and finally stood bolt upright, like a man prepared to be ‘shot at.’ ‘Your name?’ said the duke, haughtily. Dick reflected a few moments, and then answered, with the air of one who makes an admission under protest-- ‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh.’ ‘Your calling?’ added the president, severely. ‘Just a rider,’ answered Dick, after another pause. The nobles glanced significantly at each other, and Huntly observed, with a smile-- ‘That is another word for thief in your country, is it not?’ Dick looked extremely demure and unconscious, as he replied-- ‘Na, it’s broken men they ca’ thieves on the border--just like Catherans an’ Gordons an’ that in the North.’ The council could not forbear a laugh, and even the Queen bent over her work to conceal her amusement. ‘Faith, Huntly, he shivered his lance fairly against thy breastplate this time,’ said Lord Seton; and Huntly, throwing his portly person back in his chair, vowed good-humouredly that the definition was a sufficiently precise one at either extremity of the kingdom. The borderer’s examination then proceeded. ‘Was it by your chief’s orders that you defended the door in the High Street last night?’ ‘I took nae orders yestre’en frae the warden,’ replied Dick, ‘forbye to see to the naigs about our back-coming.’ ‘Would you have ventured to draw upon the Earl of Arran--upon my son,’ asked the duke, ‘without your chief’s express commands to slay him if you came across him?’ ‘I ken your Grace fine,’ answered the borderer, not very directly, ‘seein’ you’re the grandest nobleman in Scotland; but if yon was the Earl of Arran, an’ a’ your Grace’s blood fight like yon camsteary chiel, I wad like ill to keep the causeway anither nicht frae the Hamiltons.’