ur
regards! It is a grand one!" said Dame Ross, proudly.

"_Who is it? One of the young princes?_" inquired Salome, in a low
tone, full of reverential admiration.

"Ane o' the young princes? Gude guide us! Nae, young leddy; I hae seen
the young princes ance, on an unco' ill day for Lone! And I dinna care
if I never see ane mair. But they dinna look like that," said the
housekeeper, with a deep sigh.

"Who is it, then?" whispered Salome, still gazing on the portrait with
somewhat of the rapt devotion with which she had been wont to gaze on
pictured saint, or angel, on her convent walls. "Who is it, Mrs. Ross?"

"Wha is it? Wha suld it be, but our ain young laird? Our ain bonny
laddie? Our young Markis o' Arondelle? Oh, waes the day he ever left
Lone!" exclaimed Dame Girzie, lifting her apron to her eyes.

"The Marquis of Arondelle!" echoed Salome, catching her breath, and
gazing with even more interest upon the glorious picture.

Even while she gazed, the ray that had lighted it for a moment was
withdrawn by the setting sun, and the picture was swallowed up in sudden
darkness.

"The Marquis of Arondelle," repeated Salome in a low reverent tone, as
if speaking to herself.

"Ay, the young Markis o' Arondelle; wae worth the day he went awa'!" said
the housekeeper, wiping her eyes.

Salome turned suddenly to the weeping woman.

"I have heard--I have heard--" she began in a low, hesitating voice, and
then she suddenly stopped and looked at the dame.

"Ay, young leddy, nae doubt ye hae heard unco mony a fule tale anent our
young laird; but if ye would care to hear the verra truth, ye suld do so
frae mysel. But come noo, leddy. It is too dark to see onything mair in
this room. We'll gae out on the battlements gin ye like, and tak' a luke
at the landscape while the twilight lasts," said Dame Girzie.

Salome assented with a nod, and they climbed the last steep flight of
stairs, cut in the solid wall, and leading from this upper room to the
top of the watch-tower.

They came out upon a magnificent view.

The bright, long twilight of these Northern latitudes still hung
luminously over island, lake and mountain.

While Salome gazed upon it Dame Girzie said:

"All this frae the tower to the horizon, far as our eyes can reach, and
far'er, was for eight centuries the land of the Lairds of Lone. And noo!
a' hae gane frae them, and they hae gane frae us, and na mon kens where
they bide or how they fare. Wae's me!"