More remarkable than all was the monk's likeness to the young man who now stood before him with an expression of indignant surprise on his face, which slowly merged into anger as he understood why these two men were there.
He recognised his uncle the Abbot William Douglas, the head of the great Abbey of Dulce Cor upon Solway side.
This was he who, being the son and heir of the brother of the first Duke of Touraine, had in the flower of his age suddenly renounced his domains of Nithsdale that he might take holy orders, and who had ever since been renowned throughout all Scotland for high sanctity and a multitude of good works.
The pair stood looking towards the lady and William Douglas without speech, a kind of grim patience upon their faces.
It was the Earl who was the first to speak.
"What seek you here so late, my lord Abbot ?" he said, with all the haughtiness of the unquestioned head of his mighty house.
"Nay, what seeks the Earl William here alone so late ?" answered the Abbot, with equal directness.
The two men stood fronting each other.

Malise leaned upon his two-handed sword and gazed upon the ground.
"I have come," the Abbot went on, after vainly waiting for the young Earl to offer an explanation, "as your kinsman, tutor, and councillor, to warn you against this foreign witch woman.

What seeks she here in this land of Galloway but to do you hurt?
Have we not heard her with our own ears persuade you to accompany her to Edinburgh, which is a city filled with the power and deadly intent of your enemies ?" Earl William bowed ironically to his uncle, and his eye glittered as it fell upon Malise MacKim.
"I thank you, Uncle," he said.

"I am deeply indebted for your so great interest in me.

I thank you too, Malise, for bringing about this timely interference.