our infant boy,
have mercy on me, on thyself--let him, oh, let him be free!"

"Mercy on thee, thou false and perjured woman!" the earl burst forth,
the cold sarcastic expression with which he had at first listened to her
impassioned entreaties giving way to the fearful index of ungoverned
rage; "on thee, thou false traitress, not alone to thy husband's
principles but to his honor! Do I not know thee, minion--do I not know
the motives of thy conduct in leaving thy husband's castle for the court
of Bruce? Patriotism, forsooth--patriotism, ha! the patriotism that had
vent in giving and receiving love from him; it was so easy to do homage
to him in public as thy king. Oh, most rare and immaculate specimen of
female loyalty and virtue, I know thee well!"

"Man!" answered the countess, springing from her knee, and standing
before him with a mien and countenance of such majestic dignity, that
for a brief moment it awed even him, and her bewildered son gazed at her
with emotions of awe, struggling with surprise.

"Ha! faithless minion, thou bravest it well," continued Buchan,
determined on evincing no faltering in his purpose, "but thou bravest it
in vain; dishonored thou art, and hast been, aye, from the time thy
minion Robert visited thee in Buchan Tower, and lingered with thee the
months he had disappeared from Edward's court. Would Isabella of Buchan
have rendered homage to any other bold usurper, save her minion Robert?
Would the murder of a Comyn have passed unavenged by her had the
murderer been other than her gallant Bruce? Would Isabella of Buchan be
here, the only female in the Bruce's train--for I know that he is with
thee--were loyalty and patriotism her only motive? Woman, I know thee! I
know that thou didst love him, ere that false hand and falser heart were
given to me; thy lips spoke perfidy when they vowed allegiance at the
altar; and shall I have mercy on thy son, for such as thee? Mercy! ha,
have I silenced thy eloquence now?"

"Silenced, false, blasphemous villain!" vociferated Alan, every other
feeling lost in the whirlwind of passion, and springing on the earl,
with his drawn sword. "'Tis thou who art the false and faithless--thou
who art lost to every feeling of honor and of truth. Thy words are false
as hell, from whence they spring!"

"Alan, by the love thou bearest me, I charge thee put up thy sword--it
is thy father!" exclaimed, the countess, commandingly, and speaking the
last word in a tone th