ittle distance, and also in sight. The opposite field,
once the scene of slaughter and conflict, now lay as placid and quiet as
the surface of a summer lake. The trees and bushes, which grew around in
romantic variety of shade, were hardly seen to stir under the influence
of the evening breeze. The very murmur of the river seemed to soften
itself into unison with the stillness of the scene around.

The path through which the traveller descended was occasionally shaded by
detached trees of great size, and elsewhere by the hedges and boughs of
flourishing orchards, now laden with summer fruits.

The nearest object of consequence was a farmhouse, or, it might be, the
abode of a small proprietor, situated on the side of a sunny bank which
was covered by apple and pear trees. At the foot of the path which led up
to this modest mansion was a small cottage, pretty much in the situation
of a porter's lodge, though obviously not designed for such a purpose.
The hut seemed comfortable, and more neatly arranged than is usual in
Scotland. It had its little garden, where some fruit-trees and bushes
were mingled with kitchen herbs; a cow and six sheep fed in a paddock
hard by; the cock strutted and crowed, and summoned his family around him
before the door; a heap of brushwood and turf, neatly made up, indicated
that the winter fuel was provided; and the thin blue smoke which ascended
from the straw-bound chimney, and winded slowly out from among the green
trees, showed that the evening meal was in the act of being made ready.
To complete the little scene of rural peace and comfort, a girl of about
five years old was fetching water in a pitcher from a beautiful fountain
of the purest transparency, which bubbled up at the root of a decayed old
oak-tree about twenty yards from the end of the cottage.

The stranger reined up his horse and called to the little nymph, desiring
to know the way to Fairy Knowe. The child set down her water-pitcher,
hardly understanding what was said to her, put her fair flaxen hair apart
on her brows, and opened her round blue eyes with the wondering "What's
your wull?" which is usually a peasant's first answer, if it can be
called one, to all questions whatever.

"I wish to know the way to Fairy Knowe."

"Mammie, mammie," exclaimed the little rustic, running towards the door
of the hut, "come out and speak to the gentleman."

Her mother appeared,--a handsome young country-woman, to whose features,
orig