Henry stood among them, his face of a burning red.

'See here, John!' he said, holding out a letter; and then, with an accent
of wrathful anguish, and a terrible frown, he turned on James,
exclaiming, 'I would send you to the Tower, Sir, did I think you had a
hand in this!'

Malcolm trembled, and sidled nearer his prince; while James, with an
equally fierce look, replied, 'Hold, Sir! Send me where you will, but
dare not dishonour my name!' Then changing, as he saw the exceeding
grief on Henry's brow, and heard John's smothered cry of dismay, 'For
Heaven's sake, Harry, what is it?'

'This!' said Henry, less loudly, less hotly, but still with an agony of
indignation: 'Thomas is dead--and by the hand of two of your traitor
Scots!'

'Murdered!' cried James, aghast.

'Murdered by all honest laws of war, but on the battlefield,' said Henry.
'Your cousin of Buchan and old Douglas fell on my brave fellows at
Beauge, when they were spent with travel to stop the robberies in Anjou.
They closed in with their pikes on my brave fellows, took Somerset
prisoner, and for Thomas, while he was dealing with a knight named
Swinton in front, the villain Buchan comes behind and cleaves his head in
twain; and that is what you Scots call fighting!'

'It was worthy of a son of Albany!' said James. 'Would that vengeance
were in my power!'