"I am Andrew Wood, _knight_, my Lord Earl of Angus," he replied, firmly; "I received that title from a king's hand on my own deck, abaft the mizen-mast--a deck drenched with foreign blood! From my father, who was an honest and hard-working merchant-mariner of this good port of Leith, I inherited nothing but a bold heart, and my sturdy legs and arms. I have had to work my way through the voyage of life, with no compass but honesty, and no convoy but faith in God; and since I was an idle brat, who spent the day in fishing for podleys out of the fore-chains, I have never owed or wronged any man the value of a ropeyarn or a herring-scale--least of all do I owe any merit to a dead ancestry--thof most here, my lord, owe mickle mair to their ancestors than they owe to themselves, God wot! But enough of this; the gunner to his lintstock, the----" "Remember, Laird of Largo," said Lord Drummond, with a darkening brow, "thou speakest to the Lieutenant-general of the kingdom, and to men who will not stoop to monarchs, for 'tis beneath the dignity of true nobility." "Then why should I stoop to such as thee, an old jackfeather, when 'tis beneath the dignity of true manhood?" "Let us have no brawling here, sirs," said the High Constable, stepping forward, as he saw the admiral disposed to "come to close quarters;" "remember my office, its high prerogative, and this presence." "Know ye aught, Sir Andrew, of the king my father?" asked Rothesay. "Alake! I do not," replied Wood, mournfully. "Will you swear on your honour as a knight, that he is not on board your fleet?" "There are over many knights here for me to be believed," replied Wood; "but I pledge you my faith and troth as a seaman, that he is not on board of any of the ships now under my broad pennon." "Who were those you took off after the battle?" "My Lord St. John of Jerusalem, the High Treasurer, the Mareschal de Concressault, and a few more loyal men: but as for the king,--God bless him, and confound his enemies!--of him I know nothing; even rumour hath not reached us in the Firth. My shipmates and I were ready to have risked our lives in his defence; and we landed many times on that evil day, yet saw him not, though duly warned by his Grace of Montrose that James would wear a yellow plume, and ride a grey charger." Here Sir James Shaw gave a peculiar snort, and blew his nose to conceal his malicious laughter. Then (as Buchanan records) Sir Andrew added,-- "If the good king is alive, I am resolved to obey _none_ but him; if he is slain, I am ready to _revenge_ him!" At this Grey almost clutched his dagger, and felt assured he would never be safe while such a man as Wood lived. "Would to St. Mary he had never left our ship!" said Barton, who had hitherto remained silent, "for then he would have been in safety from those false traitors, whom I hope to see one day rewarded as they deserve, by having their dog-throats cut from clew to ear-ring."