"And you saved the life of my kinsman, my uncle Claude, in Cadzow Wood?"
"And he mine——"
"In Millheugh tower?"
"Yes,—from Allan Duthie, and his vile marauders."
"He told me all, dear Florence, all, and did full justice to your truth and courage," said the young countess, looking up, while her bright eyes suffused with tears of joy; "after such services given mutually, this hatred, so wicked and unnatural, must surely lessen and die."
"Under favour, sweetest heart; these services so given and tendered, but placed us again upon an equality. Thought and action in each are still free. One cannot upbraid, or fetter the other's hand, by the bitter taunt, to me thou owest life!"
"Alas! here ends my dream; for if I find you thus stubborn and wilful to me, how shall I find my older, and sterner kinsmen?"
"Your dream, beloved Madeline,—of what?" asked the young man tenderly.
"Of peace and goodwill at least, if not of love and amity between us; for well do I know that so strong is your mother's hatred, that when we ding down Tantallon, and make a bridge to the Bass,[*] we may attempt to overcome it, but not till then."
[*] An old proverb, descriptive of an impossibility.