Na, nae Douglas like yon man was ever cradled or buried in Gallowa'." At this moment Lord William Douglas, seeing the commotion on the outposts, came down the brae through the broom.

Upon seeing his father he took the plumed bonnet from off his head, and, ordering the Carsphairn men sharply to their places, he set his hand upon the bridle of the gross Earl's horse.

So with the two running footmen still preserving some sort of equilibrium in his unsteady bulk, James of Avondale was brought to the door of a tent from which floated the banner of the Douglas house, blue with a bleeding heart upon it.
At the entering in of the pavilion, all stained and trodden into the soil by the feet of passers-by, lay the royal banner of the Stewarts, so placed by headstrong James Douglas the younger, in contempt of both tutor and Chancellor, who, being but cowards and murderers, had usurped the power of the king within the realm.
That sturdy youth came to the door of his pavilion half-dressed as he had lain down, yawning and stretching reluctantly, for he had been on duty all night perfecting the arrangements for besieging the town.
"James--James," cried his father, catching sight of his favourite son rubbing sleepily his mass of crisp hair, "what's this that I hear?
That you and William are in rebellion and are defying the power o' the anointed king-- ?" At this moment the footman undid the girths of his horse, which, being apparently well used to the operation, stood still with its feet planted wide apart.

Then they ran quickly round to the side towards which the swaying bulk threatened to fall, the saddle slipped, and, like a top-heavy forest tree, James the Gross subsided into the arms of his attendants, who, straining and panting, presently set him on his feet upon the blazoned royal foot-cloth at the threshold of the pavilion.
Almost he had fallen backwards when he saw the use to which his daring sons had put the emblem of royal authority.
"Guid save us a', laddies," he cried, staggering across the flag into the tent, "ken ye what ye do?
The royal banner o' the King o' Scots--to mak' a floor-clout o'! Sirce, sirce, in three weeks I shall be as childless as the Countess o' Douglas is this day." "That," said William Douglas, coldly, indicating with his finger the trampled cloth, "is not the banner of Scotland, but only that of the Seneschal Stewarts.

The King of Scots is but a puling brat, and they who usurp his name are murderous hounds whose necks I shall presently stretch with the rogue's halter!" Young James Douglas had set an oaken folding chair for his father at the upper end of the pavilion, and into this James the Gross fell rather than seated himself.
His sons William and James continued to stand before him, as was the dutiful habit of the time.