The Enchanter now offered his hand to Miranda, and while Luachan testified his delight by bounding around them, led her through the Castle gate and accompanied her in search of the King and Queen. With all the unreasonableness of human nature, these potentates advancing to meet them, half expected to hear their daughter already speaking. They graciously accosted Eudæmon, however, and anxiously listened to his explanations.
It was finally arranged that the Queen and her daughter, with their solitary waiting-maid, (much to Donald's disgust), should be installed in a part of the Castle now never used, but where were still to be seen, when the doors were unlocked, the last traces of the gentle Bragela's feminine occupations. The islanders cheerfully lent what aid they could, and King Murdoch with his attendant was permanently fixed in the small shieling on the hill. It was impossible to accommodate him in the Castle, for though lofty, its proportions were narrow and cramped. Except to sleep therefore he very seldom left the precincts of Eudæmon's dwelling.
For several days and nights the Enchanter shut himself up alone in his high turret, examining dusty old volumes, and reading the heavens, by the aid of an instrument he himself had constructed. At the end of that time he emerged from his solitary chamber, descending with eager rapid step to join his guests at their evening meal. He bore under his arm a small box and a piece of board roughly marked in squares of two colours. His dark features wore an expression of anxious excitement.
No sooner had the last traces of the repast been cleared away than Eudæmon placed his board upon the table. Opening the box he then displayed to the Princess's delighted gaze a number of little men of various sizes and shapes. These were in fact neither more nor less than a set of chessmen which he had laboriously carved in wood with his own hands, and stained in two different colours, having ascertained the mode of using them from the careful study of ancient manuscripts.
Long before the Princess Miranda appeared in Raasay, Eudæmon had known and pondered over the mystic answer returned to her parents by the Cumbrae oracle. He diligently sought among his mother's ancient volumes of magic lore for some solution of the phrase "chequered adventure." At length he came upon the description of the ancient game of chess illustrated by rough drawings.
His attention was at once arrested by discovering that this game must be played upon a "chequered" board. After careful research he finally resolved to make the trial. It took him, however, a considerable time to fashion the various pieces from the old pictures he possessed.
The Princess, her countenance lit up with curiosity and interest, was soon seated at the little table opposite the Enchanter. Several evenings were spent in teaching her the various moves of the different pieces, and explaining to her the rules of the game.
Eudæmon was fully aware that only one hour during the twenty-four was available for the purpose of disenchantment.
Some evenings later the King and Queen, already grown somewhat sleepy, nodded drowsily in their chairs. The faithful Luachan lay between his master and the fair young guest, whose bright eyes gleamed with unwonted animation. Then the dark Enchanter arising from his seat trimmed the torch above their heads, and prepared, at midnight, to play in earnest the mystic game, so fraught with meaning to the afflicted Princess.
Miranda sat in an old-fashioned chair of curiously carved wood. Her white dress and her fair tresses reflected the flickering light, thus giving some brightness to the lofty hall, whose gloomy proportions were but partially revealed by the blazing fire and the fitful glare of the torch. The most profound silence reigned in the chamber, only broken by the cheerful crackling of the firewood or an occasional snore from the slumbering King.