h tears in his eyes; 'and
bring better days to our poor land. Cousin, has not your heart burnt
within you, to be doing somewhat to bring these countrymen of ours to
better mind?'

'I have grieved,' said Malcolm. 'The sight has been the woe and horror
of my whole life; and either it is worse now than when I went away, or I
see it clearer.'

'It is both,' said Kennedy; 'and, Malcolm, it is borne in on me that we,
who have seen better things, have a heavy charge! The King may punish
marauders, and enforce peace; but it will be but the rule of the strong
hand, unless men's hearts be moved! Our clergy--they bear the office of
priests--but their fierceness and their ignorance would scarce be
believed in France or England; and how should it be otherwise, with no
schools at home save the abbeys--and the abbeys almost all fortresses
held by fierce noblemen's sons?'

Malcolm would much rather have discussed the means of rescuing his
sister, but James Kennedy's heart was full of a youth's ardent plans for
the re-awakening of religion in his country, chiefly through the improved
education of the clergy, and it was not easy to bring his discourse to a
close.

'You--you were to wed a great Flemish heiress?' he said. 'You will do
your part, Cousin, in the founding of a University--such as has changed
ourselves so greatly.'

Malcolm smiled. 'My only bride is learning,' he said; 'my other
betrothal is but in name, for the safety of the lady.'

'Then,' cried Kennedy joyfully, 'you will give yourself. Learning and
culture turned to God's service, for this poor country's sake, in one of
birth like you, may change her indeed.'

Was this the reading of Esclairmonde's riddle? suddenly thought Malcolm.
Was the true search for heavenly Light, then, to consist in holding up to
his countrymen the lamp he was kindling for himself? Must true wisdom
consist in treasuring knowledge, not for his own honour among learned
men, or the delectation of his own mind, but to scatter it among these
rude northern souls? Must the vision of learned research and scholarly
calm vanish, as cloistral peace, and chivalrous love and glory, had
vanished before? and was the lot of a hard-working secular priest that
which called him?

CHAPTER XVIII: CLERK DAVIE

For Malcolm to speak with his sister was well-nigh an impossibility. Had
he been detected, he would have been immediately treated as a spy, and
the suspicion thus excited would have b