Amazed at her own daring, and astonished by her unwonted power, the fair songstress started blushing from her seat. In an uncontrollable burst of emotion she rushed weeping from the chamber. Queen Margaret, unable to believe it was her dumb child's voice she had heard give utterance to such melodiously thrilling notes, rose also from her chair, and cast an eager inquiring glance upon Eudæmon. Himself overcome with emotion, the Enchanter did not trust his voice to speak, but merely bowed his head; then, filled with yearning sympathy for the strangely-afflicted Princess, he opened the outer door of the hall, and hastily stepped forth on to the turreted court that overhung the shore.
It was a night of exquisite beauty—the water, calm as a mirror, stretched its dark amplitude between the solitary watcher and the far mainland of the Ross-shire hills. Orion, in all his resplendent grandeur, sparkled before him, and seemed in silent majesty to rebuke the feverish turbulence of the Enchanter's too human heart. High and cold above his head the silver crescent moon travelled dreamily across the vaulted heaven, and, as if to remind Eudæmon of her presence, cast her glittering likeness into the deep ocean's embrace, far below his feet. One by one, in gentle crashing cadence, the tiny wavelets broke beneath the Castle wall.
Insensibly soothed and quieted by nature's wondrous charm, the philosopher leant his burning head upon his hands, and absently gazed seawards.
Suddenly the casement above was thrown violently open, and Queen Margaret, in terror-stricken accents, besought his speedy aid.
He re-entered the hall. It was empty and desolate, the torch was extinguished, the fire flickered low upon the hearth. He heard a confused murmur of voices, and recognised Luachan's muffled howl of distress in the distance.
Following the sounds, he hastened up the narrow stair, and found a sorrowful group at the door of the room set apart for the Queen and her daughter. Pressing past Murdoch and Donald, and angrily motioning to Luachan to be silent, the Enchanter himself uttered a cry of anguish as his eye fell upon Miranda's death-like form. Stretched upon the rude bed, with her dishevelled tresses tangled around her pale face, on which were still the traces of tears, the poor Princess looked as if she had for ever closed her eyes to mortal scenes.
On Eudæmon's entrance, the unhappy mother rushed towards him, exclaiming, "Save her, save her! restore our darling; all shall be as you wish, if but you bring her back to life!" A deep red flush mounted to the Enchanter's very temples as the Queen, fervently pressing his hand, whispered these words, fraught with so much meaning, into his willing ear. But he needed no promised guerdon to urge him to his labour of love.
Kneeling beside the low couch, he vainly chafed Miranda's ice-cold hands. He listened over her heart—not even the feeblest flutter rewarded his strained attention. He placed a tiny polished tablet over her parted lips; its surface remained clear and unsullied by mortal breath. A sudden thought struck terror to his soul. He turned a keen glance on the mother's face; her eye fell before his; a guilty blush suffused her cheek. "You have forgotten my earnest charge," he cried, "and now it may be too late to save your child."
At this moment the magic cock was heard through the open casement crowing loudly in the castle yard. Eudæmon flew to the window and anxiously peered into the night. Right above his head, and threateningly suspended directly over the Castle, was a meteor of unwonted size and brilliancy. He fell on his knees where he stood, and stretching forth his arms silently implored Heavenly protection against the powers of evil. Again and again the ball of fire grew lurid and glowing, as though it were about to descend and bury them beneath burning ruins, but each time Chanticleer's warning voice sounded cheerfully near at hand, and at length the red globe, with a loud hissing noise, fell prone and harmless into the dark ocean depths.
Relieved from the pressing danger without, Eudæmon now turned to the sorrow within.