But wist I of a woman bold,
Who thrice my brow durst sign,
I might regain my mortal mould
As fair a form as thine.
She crossed him once, she crossed him twice,
That lady was so brave;
The fouller grew his goblin hue,
The darker turned the cave,
She crossed him thrice, that lady bold,
He rose beneath her hand,
The fairest knight on Scottish mold,
Her brother, Ethert Brand!
’Tis merry, ’tis merry, in good greenwood.”—
The quick elfin eye shot a glance out into the darkness, and saw the listening figures there; the well-known face of young Strathoran! Jacky steadily finished the verse—committed Lilie into the hands of Flora Macalpine, and shutting the door of the house-keeper’s room carefully behind her, opened the outer one, and admitted the strangers.
She conducted them up stairs in her own still, excited, elfin way; the fumes of the ballad hanging about her still. Mr. Sinclair grasped Archibald’s arm, as they reached the door of the inner room, and held him back. The plaintive hopeful music was floating out again upon the soft shadows of the darkening night.
“Speed thy labor o’er land and sea,
Home and kindred are waiting for thee.”
They entered, Jacky gliding in before them to light the candles which stood upon the table. Mrs. Catherine started up in overwhelming surprise—so did Anne and Alice. There was a loud exclamation, “Whence come you, gallant and what brings you home?” and a confused uncertain welcoming of Archibald. Then they became calmer, and he introduced Mr. Sinclair. At this stranger, Jacky when she brought the lights, had thrown a long, keen scrutinising glance. There seemed an agitated uncertainty about him, which contrasted strangely with his firm lip and clear eye. They were seated again at last. A mysterious agitation had fallen upon them all, which Archibald could not comprehend. To this new-comer Mrs. Catherine’s large gray eyes were travelling continually. Anne, with nervous timid glances, turned to him again and again. Mr. Sinclair himself, generally so frank, and full of universal sympathies, was confused and tremulous, speaking incoherently, and saying things which had no meaning; Archibald was greatly astonished—even little Alice Aytoun began to steal shy glances at the stranger.
Archibald made a sign to Anne, and rising went out—Anne followed. He was in high spirits, great in hope, and with prospects more cheering than he had ever dreamt of. He began to speak of them as she met him at the door.