The Lady of the Lake Part 11

For while the Fiery Cross hied on, On distant scout had Malise gone.-- "Where sleeps the Chief?" the henchman said.

"Apart, in yonder misty glade; 25 To his lone couch I'll be your guide."

Then called a slumberer by his side, And stirred him with his slackened bow-- "Up, up, Glantarkin! rouse thee, ho!

We seek the Chieftain; on the track, 30 Keep eagle watch till I come back."

III

Together up the pa.s.s they sped: "What of the foeman?" Norman said.

"Varying reports from near and far; This certain--that a band of war 35 Has for two days been ready boune, At prompt command, to march from Doune; King James, the while, with princely powers, Holds revelry in Stirling towers.

Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 40 Speak on our glens in thunder loud.

Inured to bide such bitter bout, The warrior's plaid may bear it out; But, Norman, how wilt thou provide A shelter for thy bonny bride?" 45 "What! know ye not that Roderick's care To the lone isle hath caused repair Each maid and matron of the clan, And every child and aged man Unfit for arms; and given his charge, 50 Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge, Upon these lakes shall float at large, But all beside the islet moor, That such dear pledge may rest secure?"--

IV

"'Tis well advised--the Chieftain's plan 55 Bespeaks the father of his clan.

But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu Apart from all his followers true?"

"It is, because last evening-tide Brian an augury hath tried, 60 Of that dread kind which must not be Unless in dread extremity, The Taghairm called; by which, afar, Our sires foresaw the events of war.

Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew." 65

MALISE

"Ah! Well the gallant brute I knew, The choicest of the prey we had, When swept our merrymen Gallangad.

His hide was snow, his horns were dark, His red eye glowed like fiery spark; 70 So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, Sore did he c.u.mber our retreat, And kept our stoutest kerns in awe, Even at the pa.s.s of Beal 'maha.

But steep and flinty was the road, 75 And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, And when we came to Dennan's Row, A child might scatheless stroke his brow."

V

NORMAN

"That bull was slain; his reeking hide They stretched the cataract beside, 80 Whose waters their wild tumult toss Adown the black and craggy boss Of that huge cliff, whose ample verge Tradition calls the Hero's Targe.

Couched on a shelf beneath its brink, 85 Close where the thundering torrents sink, Rocking beneath their headlong sway, And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream, The wizard waits prophetic dream. 90 Nor distant rests the Chief--but hus.h.!.+

See, gliding slow through mist and bush, The hermit gains yon rock, and stands To gaze upon our slumbering bands.

Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost, 95 That hovers o'er a slaughtered host?

Or raven on the blasted oak, That, watching while the deer is broke, His morsel claims with sullen croak?"

MALISE

"Peace! peace! to other than to me 100 Thy words were evil augury; But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid, Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or h.e.l.l, Yon fiend-begotten Monk can tell. 105 The Chieftain joins him, see--and now, Together they descend the brow."

VI

And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord The Hermit Monk held solemn word: "Roderick! it is a fearful strife, 110 For man endowed with mortal life, Whose shroud of sentient clay can still Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, Whose eye can stare in stony trance, Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance-- 115 'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled, The curtain of the future world.

Yet, witness every quaking limb, My sunken pulse, my eyeb.a.l.l.s dim, My soul with harrowing anguish torn-- 120 This for my Chieftain have I borne!

The shapes that sought my fearful couch, A human tongue may ne'er avouch; No mortal man--save he, who, bred Between the living and the dead, 125 Is gifted beyond nature's law-- Had e'er survived to say he saw.

At length the fatal answer came, In characters of living flame!

Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, 130 But borne and branded on my soul: WHICH SPILLS THE FOREMOST FOEMAN'S LIFE, THAT PARTY CONQUERS IN THE STRIFE."

VII

"Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care!

Good is thine augury, and fair. 135 Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood, But first our broadswords tasted blood.

A surer victim still I know, Self-offered to the auspicious blow: A spy has sought my land this morn-- 140 No eve shall witness his return!

My followers guard each pa.s.s's mouth, To east, to westward, and to south; Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, Has charge to lead his steps aside, 145 Till in deep path or dingle brown, He light on those shall bring him down.

--But see, who comes his news to show!

Malise! what tidings of the foe?"

VIII

"At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive 150 Two Barons proud their banners wave.

I saw the Moray's silver star, And marked the sable pale of Mar."

"By Alpine's soul, high tidings those!

I love to hear of worthy foes. 155 When move they on?" "Tomorrow's noon Will see them here for battle boune."

"Then shall it see a meeting stern!

But, for the place--say, couldst thou learn Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 160 Strengthened by them, we well might bide The battle on Benledi's side.

Thou couldst not! Well! Clan-Alpine's men Shall man the Trossachs' s.h.a.ggy glen; Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 165 All in our maids' and matrons' sight, Each for his hearth and household fire, Father for child, and son for sire-- Lover for maid beloved! But why-- Is it the breeze affects mine eye? 170 Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear!

A messenger of doubt and fear?

No! sooner may the Saxon lance Unfix Benledi from his stance, Than doubt or terror can pierce through 175 The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu!

'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe.

Each to his post--all know their charge."

The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 180 Obedient to the Chieftain's glance.

--I turn me from the martial roar, And seek Coir-Uriskin once more.

IX

Where is the Douglas?--he is gone; And Ellen sits on the gray stone 185 Fast by the cave, and makes her moan; While vainly Allan's words of cheer Are poured on her unheeding ear: "He will return--dear lady trust!

With joy return--he will--he must. 190 Well was it time to seek, afar, Some refuge from impending war, When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm Are cowed by the approaching storm.

I saw their boats with many a light, 195 Floating the live-long yesternight, s.h.i.+fting like flashes darted forth By the red streamers of the north; I marked at morn how close they ride, Thick moored by the lone islet's side, 200 Like wild-ducks couching in the fen, When stoops the hawk upon the glen.

Since this rude race dare not abide The peril on the mainland side, Shall not thy n.o.ble father's care 205 Some safe retreat for thee prepare?"

X

ELLEN

"No, Allan, no! Pretext so kind My wakeful terrors could not blind.

When in such tender tone, yet grave, Douglas a parting blessing gave, 210 The tear that glistened in his eye Drowned not his purpose fixed and high.

My soul, though feminine and weak, Can image his; e'en as the lake, Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, 215 Reflects the invulnerable rock.

He hears the report of battle rife, He deems himself the cause of strife.

I saw him redden, when the theme Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream 220 Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound, Which I, thou saidst, about him wound.

Think'st thou he trowed thine omen aught?

Oh, no! 'twas apprehensive thought For the kind youth--for Roderick too-- 225 Let me be just--that friend so true; In danger both, and in our cause!