"Cora was drowned! oh day of horror—horror—horror!" replied the troubled King; "she is dead and at rest."
"She is not, for I am she."
"Thou?" he exclaimed.
"I."
"Impossible!"
"I. Oh father, am I indeed so changed?"
A glare shot over the king's keen eyes; he trembled, and stretching out his hands, drew her towards him, but a cloud came over his brow, and pausing, he said,—
"And these children?"
"Are the offspring of Mac Ian Rua."
"Born of thee?"