Winter turned his horse and the two friends rode on. It had taken but two minutes for the king to reach the tent of the Scottish commander; he dismounted and entered. The general was there, surrounded by the more prominent chiefs. “The king!” they exclaimed, as all rose in bewilderment. Charles was indeed in the midst of them, his hat on his head, his brows bent, striking his boot with his riding whip. “Yes, gentlemen, the king in person, the king who has come to ask for some account of what has happened.” “What is the matter, sire?” exclaimed Lord Leven. “It is this, sir,” said the king, angrily, “that General Cromwell has reached Newcastle; that you knew it and I was not informed of it; that the enemy have left the town and are now closing the passages of the Tyne against us; that our sentinels have seen this movement and I have been left unacquainted with it; that, by an infamous treaty you have sold me for two hundred thousand pounds to Parliament. Of this treaty, at least, I have been warned. This is the matter, gentlemen; answer and exculpate yourselves, for I stand here to accuse you.” “Sire,” said Lord Leven, with hesitation, “sire, your majesty has been deceived by false reports.” “My own eyes have seen the enemy extend itself between myself and Scotland; and I can almost say that with my own ears I have heard the clauses of the treaty debated.” The Scotch chieftains looked at each other in their turn with frowning brows. “Sire,” murmured Lord Leven, crushed by shame, “sire, we are ready to give you every proof of our fidelity.” “I ask but one,” said the king; “put the army in battle array and face the enemy.” “That cannot be, sire,” said the earl. “How, cannot be? What hinders it?” exclaimed the king. “Your majesty is well aware that there is a truce between us and the English army.” “And if there is a truce the English army has broken it by quitting the town, contrary to the agreement which kept it there. Now, I tell you, you must pass with me through this army across to Scotland, and if you refuse you may choose betwixt two names, which the contempt of all honest men will brand you with—you are either cowards or traitors!” The eyes of the Scotch flashed fire; and, as often happens on such occasions, from shame they passed to effrontery and two heads of clans advanced upon the king. “Yes,” said they, “we have promised to deliver Scotland and England from him who for the last five-and-twenty years has sucked the blood and gold of Scotland and England. We have promised and we will keep our promise. Charles Stuart, you are our prisoner.” And both extended their hands as if to seize the king, but before they could touch him with the tips of their fingers, both had fallen, one dead, the other stunned. Aramis had passed his sword through the body of the first and Athos had knocked down the other with the butt end of his pistol.