XII.
Then Roderick, with impatient look,
From Brian’s hand the symbol took:
“Speed, Malise, speed!” he said, and gave
The crosslet to his henchman brave.
“The muster-place be Lanrick mead[190]—
Instant the time—speed, Malise, speed!”
Like heath bird, when the hawks pursue,
A barge across Loch Katrine flew;
High stood the henchman on the prow;
So rapidly the barge-men row,
The bubbles, where they launch’d the boat,
Were all unbroken and afloat,
Dancing in foam and ripple still,
When it had near’d the mainland hill;
And from the silver beach’s side
Still was the prow three fathom wide,
When lightly bounded to the land
The messenger of blood and brand.