"Nay, be mine the grateful task," said the king, gayly taking the
maiden's hand, and, after a few words of courtesy, he quitted the
chamber, followed by his sister.

There were sounds of mirth and revelry that night in the ancient halls
of Scone, for King Robert, having taken upon himself the state and
consequence of sovereignty, determined on encouraging the high spirits
and excited joyousness of his gallant followers by all the amusements of
chivalry which his confined and precarious situation permitted, and
seldom was it that the dance and minstrelsy did not echo blithely in the
royal suite for many hours of the evening, even when the day had brought
with it anxiety and fatigue, and even intervals of despondency. There
were many noble dames and some few youthful maidens in King Robert's
court, animated by the same patriotic spirit which led their husbands
and brothers to risk fortune and life in the service of their country:
they preferred sharing and alleviating their dangers and anxieties, by
thronging round the Bruce's wife, to the precarious calm and safety of
their feudal castles; and light-heartedness and glee shed their bright
gleams on these social hours, never clouded by the gloomy shades that
darkened the political horizon of the Bruce's fortunes. Perchance this
night there was a yet brighter radiance cast over the royal halls, there
was a spirit of light and glory in every word and action of the youthful
enthusiast, Nigel Bruce, that acted as with magic power on all around;
known in the court of England but as a moody visionary boy, whose dreams
were all too ethereal to guide him in this nether world, whose hand,
however fitted to guide a pen, was all too weak to wield a sword; the
change, or we should rather say the apparent change, perceived in him
occasioned many an eye to gaze in silent wonderment, and, in the
superstition of the time, argue well for the fortunes of one brother
from the marvellous effect observable in the countenance and mood of the