“Nay, Sir James,” and the voice sounded strangely familiar in his ear. “With Sir Dacre de Ermstein vowing vengeance against me I have other things to think of. But judge me not a churl,” he went on, as he took Eleanor’s hand; “one touch from your daughter’s fingers, and one glance from her flashing eye, are reward enough for the Captain of Hunterspath.”
[Chapter IX.]
Wha’s friends, wha’s faes, in this cauld warld,
Is e’en richt ill to learn;
But an evil e’e hath looked on thee,
My bonnie, bonnie bairn.
A. M’Laggan.
