er guide.
"O little know'st thou Roderick's heart!
Safer for both we go apart.
O haste thee, and from Allan learn,
If thou may'st trust yon wily kern." 455
With hand upon his forehead laid,
The conflict of his mind to shade,
A parting step or two he made;
Then, as some thought had crossed his brain,
He paused, and turned, and came again. 460

XIX

"Hear, lady, yet, a parting word!
It chanced in fight that my poor sword
Preserved the life of Scotland's lord.
This ring the grateful Monarch gave,
And bade, when I had boon to crave, 465
To bring it back, and boldly claim
The recompense that I would name.
Ellen, I am no courtly lord,
But one who lives by lance and sword,
Whose castle is his helm and shield, 470
His lordship the embattled field.
What from a prince can I demand,
Who neither reck of state nor land?
Ellen, thy hand--the ring is thine;
Each guard and usher knows the sign. 475
Seek thou the king without delay--
This signet shall secure thy way--
And claim thy suit, whate'er it be,
As ransom of his pledge to me."
He placed the golden circlet on, 480
Paused--kissed her hand--and then was gone.
The aged Minstrel stood aghast,
So hastily Fitz-James shot past.
He joined his guide, and wending down
The ridges of the mountain brown, 485
Across the stream they took their way,
That joins Loch Katrine to Achray.

XX

All in the Trossachs' glen was still,
Noontide was sleeping on the hill:
Sudden his guide whooped loud and high-- 490
"Murdoch! was that a signal cry?"
He stammered forth--"I shout to scare
Yon raven from his dainty fare."
He looked--he knew the raven's prey,
His own brave steed--"Ah! gallant gray! 495
For thee--for me, perchance--'twere well
We ne'er had seen the Trossachs' dell.
Murdoch, move first--but silently;
Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die!"
Jealous and sullen on they fared, 500
Each silent, each upon his guard.

XXI

Now wound the path its dizzy ledge
Around a precipice's edge,
When lo! a wasted female form,
Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, 505
In tattered weeds and wild