He gave her an anxious and impassioned glance, the last he was fated to bestow on Margaret Drummond for many a long and many an anxious day.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE WARLOCK OF BALWEARIE.
"The morning e'e saw mirth and glee,
In the hoary feudal tower;
Of bauld Sir Alan Mortimer,
The Lord o' Aberdour.
But dool was there, and mickle care,
When the moon began to gleam,
For elve and fay held jubilee,
Beneath her siller beam."—VEDDER.
While these events wore occurring in bonnie Dundee, Sir Andrew Wood, intent on avenging the fall of his friend, Sir Andrew Barton, but no way dreaming that the fate of two affectionate hearts, perhaps the fate of two rival kingdoms, depended on his severely overhauling the ships of Edmund Howard, was cruising with his frigates on the German Ocean.
The two ships, in pursuit of which we left the Yellow Frigate and her consort some pages back, proved to be only large three-masted caravels, belonging to the Prior of Pittenweem, laden with wheat and malt for Denmark; and when hailed through the trumpet, if they had seen aught of three English ships, their skippers answered in the negative. This discovery proved a source of great satisfaction to Cuddy the coxswain, who had feared that his messmate Dalquhat was about to gain the promised reward. He took his place again in the main-cross-trees, and had not been there long before he reported other two sails in sight on the starboard quarter.
Barton eagerly mounted into the mizen-top. The upper sails of the distant vessels were then visible, even to his unassisted eye, for they shone white as snow in the light of the morning sun, which rose in unclouded brilliance from the eastern sea; and the shore of Fife, with the bold bluff Isle of May, were dimly mellowed in the morning haze.
"How do they steer, Cuddie?" asked Captain Burton.
"Dead for Dunbar Harbour."
"Have they any colours flying, do'st think?"