He advanced; his dagger flashed above the Bruce.
With one bound, one shout, I sprang on the murderous wretch, wrenched the dagger from his grasp, and dashed him to the earth.

He struggled, but in vain; the king started from that deep slumber, one moment gazed around him bewildered, the next was on his feet, and by my side.

The soldiers rushed into the tent, and confusion for the moment waxed loud and warm; but the king quelled it with a word.

The villain was raised, pinioned, brought before the Bruce, who sternly demanded what was his intent, and who was his employer.

Awhile the miscreant paused, but then, as if spell-bound by the flashing orb upon him, confessed the whole, aye, and more; that his master, the Earl of Buchan, had sworn a deep and deadly oath to relax not in his hot pursuit till the life-blood of the Bruce had avenged the death of the Red Comyn, and that, though he had escaped now, he must fall at length, for the whole race of Comyn had joined hands upon their chieftain's oath.