other, revelling
in the scenes around them, were seasons of unalloyed enjoyment,
happiness more perfect than the state and restraint of a court.
Precarious, indeed, it was, but even in moments of danger they were not
parted; for Nigel was ever the escort of the Countess of Buchan, and
danger by his side lost half its terror to Agnes. He left her side but
to return to it covered with laurels, unharmed, uninjured, even in the
midst of foes; and so frequently did this occur, that the fond,
confiding spirit of the young Agnes folded itself around the belief that
he bore a charmed life; that evil and death could not injure one so
faultless and beloved. Their love grew stronger with each passing week;
for nature, beautiful nature, is surely the field of that interchange of
thought, for that silent commune of soul so dear to those that love. The
simplest flower, the gushing brooks, the frowning hills, the varied hues
attending the rising and the setting of the sun, all were turned to
poetry when the lips of Nigel spoke to the ears of love. The mind of
Agnes expanded before these rich communings. She was so young, so
guileless, her character moulded itself on his. She learned yet more to
comprehend, to appreciate the nobility of his soul, to cling yet closer
to him, as the consciousness of the rich treasure she possessed in his
love became more and more unfolded to her view. The natural fearfulness
of her disposition gave way, and the firmness, the enthusiasm of
purpose, took possession of her heart, secretly and silently, indeed;
for to all, save to herself, she was the same gentle, timid, clinging
girl that she had ever been.

So passed the summer months; but as winter approached, and the prospects
of the king remained as apparently hopeless and gloomy as they were on
his first taking refuge in the mountains, it was soon pretty evident
that some other plan must be resorted to; for strong as the resolution
might be, the delicate frames of his female companions, already
suffering from the privations to which they had been exposed, could not
sustain the intense cold and heavy snows peculiar to the mountain
region. Gallantly as the king had borne himself in every encounter with
the English and Anglo-Scots, sustaining with unexampled heroism repeated
defeats and blighted hopes, driven from one mountainous district by the
fierce opposition of its inhabitants, from another by a cessation of
supplies, till famine absolutely threaten