royalty on the head of Scotland's king; and then arose, as with one
voice, the wild enthusiastic shout of loyalty, which, bursting from all
within the church, was echoed again and again from without, almost
drowning the triumphant anthem which at the same moment sent its rich,
hallowed tones through the building, and proclaimed Robert Bruce indeed
a king.

Again and yet again the voice of triumph and of loyalty arose
hundred-tongued, and sent its echo even to the English camp; and when it
ceased, when slowly, and as it were reluctantly, it died away, it was a
grand and glorious sight to see those stern and noble barons one by one
approach their sovereign's throne and do him homage.

It was not always customary for the monarchs of those days to receive
the feudal homage of their vassals the same hour of their coronation, it
was in general a distinct and almost equally gorgeous ceremony; but in
this case both the king and barons felt it better policy to unite them;
the excitement attendant on the one ceremonial they felt would prevent
the deficiency of numbers in the other being observed, and they acted
wisely.

There was a dauntless firmness in each baron's look, in his manly
carriage and unwavering step, as one by one he traversed the space
between him and the throne, seeming to proclaim that in himself he held
indeed a host. To adhere to the usual custom of paying homage to the
suzerain bareheaded, barefooted, and unarmed, the embroidered slipper
had been adopted by all instead of the iron boot; and as he knelt before
the throne, the Earl of Lennox, for, first in rank, he first approached
his sovereign, unbuckling his trusty sword, laid it, together with his
dagger, at Robert's feet, and placing his clasped hands between those of