to himself. By and by, when he
found they did not return, he followed them.

When they reached the end of the cutting, Ginevra started at sight
of the vast gulf, the moon showing the one wall a ghastly gray, and
from the other throwing a shadow half across the bottom. But a
winding road went down into it, and Donal led her on. She shrunk at
first, drawing back from the profound, mysterious-looking abyss, so
awfully still; but when Donal looked at her, she was ashamed to
refuse to go farther, and indeed almost afraid to take her hand from
his arm; so he led her down the terrace road. The side of the
quarry was on one hand, and on the other she could see only into the
gulf.

"Oh, Donal!" she said at length, almost in a whisper, "this is like
a dream I once had, of going down and down a long roundabout road,
inside the earth, down and down, to the heart of a place full of the
dead--the ground black with death, and between horrible walls."

Donal looked at her; his face was in the light reflected from the
opposite gray precipice: she thought it looked white and strange,
and grew more frightened, but dared not speak. Presently Donal
again began to sing, and this is something like what he sang:--

"Death! whaur do ye bide, auld Death?"
"I bide in ilka breath,"
Quo' Death.
"No i' the pyramids,
An' no the worms amids,
'Neth coffin-lids;
I bidena whaur life has been,
An' whaur's nae mair to be dune."

"Death! whaur do ye bide, auld Death?"
"Wi' the leevin', to dee 'at's laith,"
Quo' Death.
"Wi' the man an' the wife
'At lo'e like life,
But strife; (without)
Wi' the bairns 'at hing to their mither,
An' a' 'at lo'e ane anither."

"Death! whaur do ye bide, auld Death?"
"Abune an' aboot an' aneath,"
Quo' Death.
"But o' a' the airts,
An' o' a' the pairts,
In herts,
Whan the tane to the tither says na,
An' the north win' begins to blaw."

"What a terrible song, Donal!" said Ginevra.

He made no reply, but went on, leading her down into the pit: he had
been afraid she was going to draw back, and sang the first words her
words suggested, knowing she would not interrupt him. The aspect of
the place grew frightful to her.

"Are you sure there are no holes--full of water, down there?" she
faltered.

"Ay, there's ane or twa," replied Donal, "but we'll haud oot o'
them."

Ginevra shuddered, but was determined to show no fear: Donal should
not reproach her