as he gazed now at her, now at the sea below,
looked as if cloud could never come more between the sun and his noble
face.

Alack! that I myself must bring the cloud.

"Ludar to the front! Something is wrong. Your brother--"

May I never hear again the cry with which he snatched up his sword and
rushed to the gate!

I followed close to his heels, only bidding the maiden get to her tower
whither I would send her English squire to guard her. But Ludar, as we
reached the gate, turned and ordered me back.

"Stay," said he, hoarsely, and white as a sheet, "stay here!"

Then, as he waited for the portcullis to open, I hastily told him what I
had witnessed, and where he would find his brother.

"My brother!" he groaned, "my brother! Humphrey, if I ever return here
it shall be with this dog's blood on my sword. Farewell."

And in a moment he had passed the bridge and was rushing headlong on the
foe. My heart sank as I saw him go thus; and, whether it vexed him or
not, I shouted aloud: "Who follows Ludar? Follow! follow!" Instantly a
hundred McDonnells started at the call, and leapt over the bridge. Then
with my own hand I let down the gate, and bade the rest, in their
chief's name, stand and guard the walls.

Alexander's party were already in retreat, half-a-mile away, for they
had no leader; and the English, flushed with victory, and strong in
numbers, were pushing them back at the sword's point. Nor did this new
company help them much, for Ludar, when he saw who followed him, angrily
ordered them to stand, while he went alone to the place I had told him
of, in search of his brother.

But brother there was none. I could see my friend from where I stood
stalk round the place, now deserted of friend and foe, shouting and
calling like a man possessed. Perhaps the murderer had taken off the
body as a trophy; or perhaps--perhaps Alexander yet lived, and was safe.
But sign of him there was none. For a weary hour Ludar called and
searched; then, weary and sick at heart, I saw him call his men, and
march off in pursuit of the enemy.

Thus all that day we stood and waited in Dunluce, and not a man spoke to
his fellow. For the joy of our victory was turned into mourning. The
Clan had lost one hero; and who should say whether the Banshee's warning
was not to be fulfilled on another?

The only man who kept up heart was the Englishman.

"These McDonnells," said he, "have the lives of cats. You shall see
you