ho was of your faith, and had her name in your Covenant, but
whose heart I won like goodly spoil taken from the mighty. If I die by
the sword of my Lady Cochrane's men, her daughter will keep my grave
green with her tears. If, living, I have been loved by one strong
woman, and after I am dead am mourned by her, I have not lived in
vain."

"Sayest thou," replied the shadowy figure, with triumphant scorn.
"That was a pretty catch-word to be repeated over the wine cup at the
drinking of my lady's health. Verily thou didst deceive a daughter of
the godly, and she was willing to be caught in the snare of thy fair
face and soft words. Judge ye whether the child who breaks the bond of
the Covenant and turns against the mother who bore her, is likely to
be a true wife or a faithful widow. Again will I lift the veil, and
thou wilt see with thine own eyes the things which are going to be,
for as thou hast shown no mercy, mercy will not be shown to thee. Dost
thou remember this place?"

Claverhouse is again within the gallery of Paisley Castle, and he is
looking upon a marriage service. Before him are the people of five
years ago, except that now young Lord Cochrane is Earl of Dundonald,
and is giving away the bride, and my Lady Cochrane is not there
either to bless or to ban. For a while he cannot see the faces of the
bride or bridegroom, nor tell what they are, save that he is a
soldier, and she is tall and proud of carriage.

"My marriage day!" exclaimed Claverhouse, his defiant note softening
into tenderness, and the underlying sorrow rising into joy. "For this
vision at least I bless thee, spirit, whoever thou mayest be, Brown or
any other. That was the day of all my life, and I am ready now or any
time in this world or the other to have it over again and pledge my
troth to my one and only love, to my gallant lady and sweetheart,
Jean."

"Thou wilt not be asked to take thy marriage vow again, Claverhouse,
nor would thy presence be acceptable on this day. It is the wedding of
my Lady Viscountess Dundee, but be not too sure that thou art the
bridegroom. She that broke lightly the Covenant with her living
heavenly bridegroom, will have little scruple in breaking the bond to
a dead earthly bridegroom. Thy Jean hath found another husband."

From the faces of the bride and bridegroom the mysterious shadow,
which hides the future from the present in mercy to us all, lifted.
It was Jean as majestic and as youthful as in the day