In Scotland there were great rejoicings for the restoration of the long lost Cora, and there could no longer be competition or discord about her hand; for Græme, Dunbar, and Kenneth lay dead on the field of Mortlach, and she was now a wedded woman. For his bravery in saving first the life of Cora from the waters of the Clyde, and secondly the life of the king in battle, the huntsman, Mac Ian, was made thane of a thanedom in the shire of Rhynfrew; and Malcolm gave him a coat of arms, which his descendants bear to the present time. Moreover, he nobly fulfilled the vow he had made to St. Molach, by adding to the chapel thrice the length of his long Scottish spear; thus it became, as we may still see it, a church, and he made it the cathedral of the diocese of Mortlach, of which St. Beyne was the first bishop, and Nechtan the last, when the see was translated by King David I. to Aberdeen, and enriched in all its revenues: and in memory of the bloody field so auspiciously won by the saint's intercession, he desired that the heads of Enrique, Enotus, and another valiant Dane, should be built into the wall, and there to this hour we may still see them, bare, white, and ghastly, with their teeth grinning from the stonework, and in the brow of each is the broken mark of the blow under which he died.
In that church is the shrine of St. Molach, whose festival was held on the 25th of June, and who became famous all over Scotland, but especially in Ross-shire and Argyle, where another church was built in his honour at Lismore.
Such was the story of the princess and the huntsman; and the moral of it is, that we should never despair, for the spokes in the wheel of fortune follow each other so fast that all are uppermost in their turn. Thus, the once despised Mac Ian Rua became the head of a great house, still named ERSKINE, in memory of his words at Mortlach; and Malcolm II. gave him for his cognizance a hand holding a dagger, with the motto, "Je pense plus," and a shield argent, with a pale, sable; then as Mac Ian loved the Clyde—for there he had won the beautiful Cora—Malcolm gave him the lands, barony, and castle of Erskine, and from his marriage sprung a race that never failed their king or country—the loyal and noble Earls of Mar.*
Such was the story of the Admiral, an old legend, which, as before mentioned, I have given in my own words rather than his; for many parts of the narrative, as he told it, would not have been over-intelligible to landsmen.
* The death of Cora, at Cora Lynn, is an ancient legend, still remembered in Clydesdale. The scene of the Battle of Mortlach is still marked by many sepulchral mounds, full of bones and broken armour. The bishopric is said to have originated in the king's vow, and it was confirmed by a bull of Pope Benedict VIII. The charter of erection by the king is still preserved in the chartulary of Aberdeen. It begins in the usual form "Malcolmus Rex Scottorum," and consists of only five or six lines, and ends with "Teste meipso apud Forfar, octavo die mensis Octobris, anno regni mei sexto."
CHAPTER LXIII.
THE BROKEN WEDDING-RING.
"His little hardy infant son
Sits crowing on his lusty neck;
His wife—a fair and tender one—
Murmurs and weeps upon his cheek;
The sail is set, she clears the shore,
She feels the wind and scuds away,
Heels on her little keel, and o'er
The jostling waves appears to play."
While all these events which have been narrated had taken place, Jamie Gair, the fisherman of Broughty-point, had been quietly fishing and selling, or selling and fishing, and while battles were won and a kingdom lost, he had nothing to agitate his mind of greater importance than an occasional foul wind, or an evil omen, such as meeting a cat, a pig, or an old woman, when about to embark, or seeing two crows flying together—an infallible sign of misfortune; or losing a net, and being unable to settle his twine bill—a serious matter for a poor fisherman.
During the last days of July, he had suffered so many omens to deter him from putting to sea, that the imperative necessity for braving all such absurd dangers and superstitious fears, and of departing for the fishing ground, made Jamie prepare his nets and floats, though advised by his companion and partner in the boat, John o' the Buddon-ness, that the weather, which had been squally for some days past, was likely to become more so.