less. Let me sing you a roman both
sad and true!'

Which good-natured speech simply irritated George beyond bearing. 'The
daft old carle,' muttered he to Sir Patrick, 'why cannot he let me gang
my ain gate, instead of bringing all their prying eyes on me? If Jean
casts me off the noo, it will be all his fault.'

These small vexations, however, soon faded out of sight when the
drooping, half-hoisted banner was seen on the turrets of Chateau le
Surry, and the clang of a knell came slow and solemn on the wind.

No one was at first visible, but probably a warder had announced their
approach, for various figures issued from the gateway, some coming up
to Rene, and David Drummond seeking his father. The tidings were in one
moment made known to the two poor girls--a most sudden shock, for they
had parted with their sister in full health, as they thought, and Sir
Patrick had only supposed her to have been chilled by the thunderstorm.
Yet Eleanor's first thought was, 'Ah! I knew it! Would that I had
clung closer to her and never been parted.' But the next moment she was
startled by a cry--Jean had slid from her horse, fainting away in George
Douglas's arms.

Madame de Ste. Petronelle was at hand, and the Lady of Glenuskie quickly
on the spot; and they carried her into the hall, where she revived,
and soon was in floods of tears. These were the days when violent
demonstration was unchecked and admired as the due of the deceased, and
all stood round, weeping with her. King Charles himself leaning forward
to wring her hands, and cry, 'My daughter, my good daughter!' As soon
as the first tempest had subsided, the King supported Eleanor to the
chapel, where, in the midst of rows of huge wax candles, Margaret lay
with placid face, and hands clasped over a crucifix, as if on a tomb,
the pall that covered all except her face embellished at the sides with
the blazonry of France and Scotland. Her husband, with his thin hands
clasped, knelt by her head, and requiems were being sung around by
relays of priests. There was fresh weeping and wailing as the sisters
cast sprinklings of holy water on her, and then Jean, sinking down quite
exhausted, was supported away to a chamber where the sisters could hear
the story of these last sad days from Lady Drummond.

The solemnities of Margaret's funeral took their due course--a lengthy
one, and then, or rather throughout, there was the consideration what
was to come next. Too late, all the Court