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a younger branch； and not yet admitted to the rank of knighthood。
The early spring of the year 1421 was bleak and dreary in that wild lonely vale； and large was the fire burning on the hearth in the castle hall； in the full warmth of which there sat； with a light blue cloth cloak drawn tightly round him； a tall old man； of the giant mould of Scotland； and with a massive thoughtful brow； whose grand form was rendered visible by the absence of hair； only a few remnants of yellow locks mixed with silver floating from his temples to mingle with his magnificent white beard。 A small blue bonnet； with a short eagle feather； fastened with a brooch of river pearl； was held in the hands that were clasped over his face； as； bending down in his chair； he murmured through his white beard； 'Have mercy； good Lord； have mercy on the land。 Have mercy on my son；and guard him when he goes out and when he comes in。 Have mercy on the children I have toiled for； and teach me to judge and act for them aright in these sore straits； and above all； have mercy on our King； break his fetters； and send him home to be the healer of his land； the avenger of her cruel wrongs。'
So absorbed was the old man that he never heard the step that came across the hall。 It was a slightly unequal step； but was carefully hushed at entrance； as if supposing the old man asleep； and at a slow pace the new…comer crossed the hall to the chimney； where he stood by the fire； warming himself and looking wistfully at the old Knight。
He was wrapped in a plaid； black and white； which increased the gray appearance of the pale sallow face and sad expression of the wearer； a boy of about seventeen； with soft pensive dark eyes and a sickly complexion； with that peculiar wistful cast of countenance that is apt to accompany deformity； though there was no actual malformation apparent； unless such might be reckoned the slight halt in the gait； and the small stature of the lad； who was no taller than many boys of twelve or fourteen。 But there was a depth of melancholy in those dark brown eyes； that went far into the heart of any one who had the power to be touched with their yearning； appealing； almost piteous gaze； as though their owner had come into a world that was much too hard for him； and were looking out in bewilderment and entreaty for some haven of peace。
He had stood for some minutes looking thoughtfully into the fire； and the sadness of his expression ever deepening； before the old man raised his face； and said； 'You here； Malcolm？ where are the others？'
'Patie and Lily are still on the turret…top； fair Uncle；' returned the boy。 'It was so cold；' and he shivered again； and seemed as though he would creep into the fire。
'And the reek？' asked the uncle。
'There is another reek broken out farther west；' replied Malcolm。 'Patie is sure now that it is as you deemed； Uncle； that it is a cattle…lifting from Badenoch。'
'Heaven help them！' sighed the old man； again folding his hands in prayer。 'How long； O Lord； how long？'
Malcolm took up the appeal of the Psalm； repeating it in Latin； but with none the less fervency； that Psalm that has ever since David's time served as the agonized voice of hearts hot…burning at the sight of wrong。
'Ah yes；' he ended； 'there is nothing else for it！ Uncle； this was wherefore I came。 It was to speak to you of my purpose。'
'The old purpose； Malcolm？ Nay； that hath been answered before。'
'But listen； listen； dear Uncle。 I have not spoken of it for a full year now。 So that you cannot say it is the caresses of the good monks。 No； nor the rude sayings of the Master of Albany；' he added； colouring at a look of his uncle。 'You bade me say no more till I be of full age； nor would I； save that I were safe lodged in an abbey； then might Patrick and Lily be wedded； and he not have to leave us and seek his fortune far away in France； and in Patie's hands and leading； my vassals might be safe； but what could the doited helpless cripple do？' he added； the colour rising hotly to his cheek with pain and shame。 'Oh； Sir； let me but save my soul； and find peace in Coldingham！'
'My poor bairn；' said his uncle； laying a kind hand upon him； as in his eagerness he knelt on one knee beside the chair； 'it must not be。 It is true that the Regent and his sons would willingly see you in a cloister。 Nay； that unmanly jeer of Walter Stewart's was； I verily believe； meant to drive you thither。 But were you there； then would poor Lilias become a prize worth having； and the only question would be； whether Walter of Albany； or Robert of Athole； or any of the rest of them； should tear her away to be the lady of their fierce ungodly households。'
'You could give her to Patrick； Uncle。'
'No； Malcolm； that were not consistent with mine honour； or oaths to the King and State。 You living； and Laird of Glenuskie； Lilias is a mere younger sister； whom you may give in marriage as you will； but were you dead to the world； under a cowl； then the Lady of Glenuskie； a king's grandchild； may not be disposed of； save by her royal kinsman； or by those who； woe worth the day！ stand in his place。 I were no better than yon Wolf of Badenoch or the Master of Albany； did I steal a march on the Regent； and give the poor lassie to my own son！'
'And so Lilias must pine； and Patrick wander off to the weary French war；' sighed Malcolm； 'and I must be scorned by my cousins whenever the House of Stewart meets together； and must strive with these fierce cruel men； that will ever be too hard for me when Patie is gone。' His eyes filled with tears as he continued； 'Ah！ that fair chapel； with the sweet chant of the choir； the green smooth…shaven quadrangle； the calm cloister walk； there； there alone is rest。 There； one ceases to be a prey and a laughing…stock； there； one sees no more bloodshed and spulzie； there； one need not be forced to treachery or violence。 Oh； Uncle！ my very soul is sick for Coldingham。 How many years will it be ere I can myself bestow my sister on Patie； and hide my head in peace！'
Before his uncle had done more than answer； 'Nay； nay； Malcolm； these are no words for the oe of Bruce； you are born to dare as well as to suffer；' there was an approach of footsteps； and two young people entered the hall； the first a girl； with a family likeness to Malcolm； but tall； upright； beautiful； and with the rich colouring of perfect health； her plaid still hanging in a loose swelling hood round her brilliant face and dark hair； snooded with a crimson ribbon and diamond clasp； the other； a knightly young man； of stately height and robust limbs； keen bright blue eyes and amber hair and beard； moving with the ease and grace that showed his training in the highest school of chivalry。
'Good Uncle；' cried the maiden in eager excitement； 'there is a guest coming。 He has just turned over the brae side； and can be coming nowhere but here。'
'A guest！' cried both Malcolm and the elder knight； 'of what kind； Lily？'
'A knighta knight in bright steel； and with three attendants；' said Lilias； 'one of Patrick's French comrades； say I； by the grace of his riding。'
'Not a message from the Regent； I trust；' sighed Malcolm。 'Patie； oh do not lower th