At that moment the hill hid the castle again, and when, passing some woodland, they came once more within sight of Trochrie, they were close under the walls. Gowrie looked up, but Julia was no longer to be seen; but, as he mounted the ascent, his heart beat with joyful feelings to see Beatrice's light prognostication falsified. Beneath the deep arch of the castle gateway, which stood wide open, with portcullis up and drawbridge down, stood a figure which it needed no second glance to identify. In an instant he was over the bridge, off his horse, and by her side; and as Beatrice rode up, followed by the servants, Gowrie took Julia's hand in his, and led her a step or two forward to meet his sister.
"She is not so coldhearted as you are, Beatrice," he said, gaily, "and so did come down to meet us."
But Beatrice was off her horse in a moment; and certainly her greeting of her brother's promised bride showed no great coldness of heart. Casting back the waves of her own bright brown hair, she kissed her tenderly, saying, "I have teased him sadly, dear Julia, as we came, just to prevent his impatience from breaking all bounds; but never you think that I do not love you, whatever he may say. Have I not ridden well nigh seventy miles to see you, with all the greater pleasure, because it is so secret that it feels almost like treason, which is the greatest of all possible delights to a woman. But come, let us into the castle. You have neither veil nor coif on; and the mountain air is not delicate, especially for those who have lived long in southern lands;" and twining her arm through that of her new friend, she led the way into Trochrie, with all the chambers of which she seemed well acquainted.
No servant presented himself as they went; and with open gates and lowered drawbridge, the castle seemed at the mercy of any one who might choose to attack it. Gowrie looked round with displeasure.
"This is dangerous," he said, as they walked on across the outer court. "Where are the men you brought with you, dear Julia? I should have thought that Austin would have been more careful."
"Austin is watching in the tower," said Julia; "and the women are milking in the field behind; but the rest of the men are gone out, I believe, to catch game in the valley on the other side of that great hill. We found the place scantily supplied with provisions, and they seem to have been accustomed to take such means of getting what they want."
Gowrie mused. "This was what I feared," he said; "but we must see that you are better guarded for the future, love; and I am sure my mother, if she knew the state of the castle, would have sent up all that was needful for you."
"And so she has, indeed," answered Julia. "Several horse loads arrived this very morning--everything she could think of, indeed, to while away the time; but, doubtless, the men, accustomed to a more active life than I am, and not having so much to meditate upon, find it dull."
"They must learn better," replied the earl; and with this comment, they walked on to a large chamber above, which Julia had made her sitting-room, and decked out as best she could with the books which Lady Gowrie had sent her, a lute, and a mandolin.
A slight cloud in the morning often leads in the brighter day. Gowrie was displeased with the negligence of his followers, and when they returned soon after, he reproved them sternly for their want of caution. Only two attempted to excuse themselves--the man who usually remained in charge of the castle, who, with humble tone, and with the deference of a clansman to his chief, declared that he had not been made aware of his lord's wishes or the necessity of caution; and the man, David Drummond, who had accompanied Julia thither, and who replied to his lord in a tone of dogged sullenness, which Gowrie bore with more calmness than either Julia or Beatrice had expected.