“In man’s most dark extremity
Oft succor dawns from heaven.”
I saw the lights of the castle again gleam over the dark billows as the door opened to the regal wanderer asking shelter. I saw the haughty look of the proud Lorn, his lifelong enemy. I saw the bridal feast changed into warlike debate, and Scott’s lines came to my mind with pictured force:
“Wild was the scene; each sword was bare,
Back streamed each chieftain’s shaggy hair
In gloomy opposition set,
Eyes, hands, and brandished weapons met;
Blue gleaming o’er the social board,
Flashed to the torches many a sword;
And soon those bridal lights may shine